The American Express Customer Service Representative Who Loved Me

When I opened my mailbox a month ago, I wasn’t expecting to be caught up in a torrid love affair, but a lovesick American Express Customer Outreach Representative from suburban Texas had different plans. I don’t know my credit score off the top of my head, but I pay my credit card on time every month and in full. I have bills in my name. I haven’t defaulted on any loans. I figure my score is modest, nothing to get excited about. So I was quite surprised when I received a generous offer from American Express to apply for their Green Card.

With my current credit card, I was the one to solicit Chase, throwing the old double wink at a recalcitrant customer representative, who I assume begrudgingly gave me a line of credit just to leave the bank. But American Express was making a play for my wallet, and they were playing hard. I felt like the prettiest girl at the bar, with men scrambling to line up and offer me a fixed-rate APR. I carefully read the offer, I considered it. But I ultimately decided that annual fees were just not my thing. With great trepidation, I sent the offer spiraling toward the bin. 

Well this must have really crushed someone over at American Express, because not two weeks later, I had another envelope in my mailbox, this time a select invitation to apply for the Gold Card. In all my years I’ve never been courted quite this hard for anything, never mind for something as high stakes as a pre-screened credit card offer. While I hate playing the siren, this Gold Card wasn’t quite my speed either. It carried a heftier annual fee than its predecessor, and my charging habits just don’t justify the extra cost. This one too was recycled with a tear shed, knowing that in a stuffy office in a business park somewhere in El Paso, Texas, the heart of an American Express Customer Outreach Representative was breaking.

Or so I thought. Two weeks after the second offer, I was faced with yet another American Express envelope. Black, you might guess? Platinum? Ruby? Had my star-crossed American Express Customer Outreach Representative pulled some strings to get me an exclusive application for a card outside my spending power and credit score? No, no, no—it was an epistle forged in spite. The pre-screened offer was again for the Green Card, the one I had so lovelornly rejected four weeks prior. Knowing I had rejected Green and then Gold, this customer outreach monster decided to taunt me with the lower offer once more. But why? I had only followed my heart.

Maybe in a couple of years, American Express Customer Service Representative, we would have worked out. We could have fallen into each other’s arms and spent out the sweet summers of our lives lazing in hammocks purchased from rewards points and attending exclusive-card-member-only jazz concerts on a private beach. But you had to play with fire. You got hurt, and you had to hurt back. You had to bring my credit score into this. Had it fallen so precipitously since the first time you offered the Green Card? My mind immediately raced there.

If you wanted to have a go at my wardrobe or appearance or that weird noise I make when I drink cold water, fine. But my credit score is off limits. I never set out to hurt you, American Express Customer Service Representative, I only set out to be a responsible spender. But somewhere along the way, you got jaded. You got burned and then burned again, and now anyone who refuses your advances gets the twisted ire of your most insidious design, drunk on the power of pre-sorted first class mailing privileges.I may pay 45 cents to mail my letters, but at least I know who I am. That second Green offer ended up with the other two you sent, and know that I won’t be drinking two bottles of wine tonight and fishing it out to scrawl my social security number and work phone on the tear-soaked dotted lines. It’s over. I never asked for this, American Express Customer Service Representaitve. I never asked for us.



Matt Powers is a heartbreaker.


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