What’s In Your Wallet Mr. Samuel L. Jackson?
As an actor, I love Samuel L. Jackson. His movies are always a go to for me. As Jules in Pulp Fiction, he reminds me the hamburger is the cornerstone of every breakfast. Quoting Ezekiel 25:17, Jules tells those unfortunate souls he will strike them down with great vengeance and furious anger. Literally and figuratively, my man slays.
In the Golden Schmoes award winning Snakes on a Plane, Jackson, as agent Neville Flynn, screams the historic declaration: Enough is enough! I’ve had it with these muthafuckin’ snakes on this muthafuckin’ plane! Flynn thereafter stabs, spears, torches, electrocutes, and shoves out the window, a bazillion slithering serpents.
In Shaft, it was Jackson’s duty to please that booty. In Die Hard with a Vengeance, he threatens Bruce Willis with a lightning bolt up his ass for questioning his character’s name — Zeus.
Swimming in Cash with Samuel L.
Jackson has earned every penny of his money and now carries one of the fattest wallets in Hollywood, some say upwards of $270,000,000. So, when Mr. Jackson started promoting Capital One Credit Cards, I was all in. I mean, if it was good for him, it had to be good for me. How could I lose? Even the numbnut with all of the Samuel L. action figures had to be swimming with dead presidents in his kiddie pool.
It’s time to replace the crayon in my billfold (to keep it from bending) with some fresh, folding, cash.
Gone are the phony family and golden retriever pics, the string of dental floss, the flattened penny from Gatorland, the cocktail napkin with the number to a phone sex site (given to me by psyche-ward nurse), and the business card of Guangbiao Chen, the most influential, prominent, moral, earthquake rescuing, beloved, volunteering, low carbon emissioning, dim sum making, person/hero/leader/renaissance man/bon vivant in the history of China.
Mr. Jackson tells me the Quicksilver Card is my vehicle to the promised land — a virtual cash back oasis. I get a $200 cash bonus (if I spend $500 in the first 3 months). I pay no annual fee nor any interest for 15 months. Thank you, Samuel L., Time to apply.
I’m a Law Man, Kinda’ Sorta’.
I pull up the application and fill it in. As a Parking Enforcement Technician, upward mobility is not in the cards for a dude who writes shit piles of tickets for the immobile (and especially those asswipes who drive Porsches). I make $15.96 an hour but am otherwise free and easy. I don’t pay rent. I live with my Grandpa Oompa (a professional trombone player) and Grandma Stickyhands (retired from a Turkish taffy candy factory).
Gramps co-signed on a car I bought 6 years ago. I made the payments until I drove into the wrong house and hit a tree I didn’t have.
Insurance covered the car. Gramps covered my medical bills. Now, I have no ride, but Gramps lets me drive his destined to be a classic, 1981 Chrysler Imperial.
At work, I have a sweet golf cart with police decals to minimize the shit I get from parking meter delinquents. Don’t got no student loans (college was not my jam) but wish I had blown that free $10,000 of Uncle Sam’s moolah on some weed with dorm chicks.
I owe 382 dollars to the State of Alaska for, don’t say it, parking tickets on a rental car. I drove it when I went for a job interview as a greenhorn on The Deadliest Catch crab boat, Frozen in Time. I waited three days at the harbor racking up fines every two hours. I didn’t get the job because the guy who just drowned was still owed six months of back pay.
The Snow Machine
I owe five grand on a high-capacity snow making machine I bought to make a sled run for kids in the neighborhood. Charging ten bucks per would have been a financial windfall except for the goddamn December heat waves we’ve had in El Paso since 1937 (almost an inch of snow). Still, I only pay fifty bucks a month and I’ll have it paid off by 2052, with interest. I have no savings because I dumped it all into the snow making business. 20K down the desert sewer pipes. Still, thanks to Mr. Jackson, I’ll be swaggin’ with this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Hi Ho, Quicksilver Away!
My card arrives. Gotta $8,000 credit line and I’m anxious to roll this dog into a fortune of free cash!
No stupid shit with this card. I read about some sick fuck who bought Beyonce’s leggings for 100K.
A whacked-out chick bought Justin Timberlake’s half eaten French toast for a grand.
One cave dweller bought an imaginary friend from a shamster for three grand. Hell no!
First investment.
I sent my grandparents to Vegas to see an Elvis impersonator in All Shook Up. I invited my fellow techs over for a feast. I hired a bartender and a kid down the street who is supposed to be a kickin’ DJ, spinning everything from techno to hip hop. Brought in the El Pequeno Sombrero food truck. Louie cooks up slammin’ tacos. I’m all in for $1,500. You know what that means? Cha Ching!
Second Investment.
After the festivities, Johnny Kerr, the Westside City parking tech, blew a 1.8 on the breathalyzer and was arrested on DUI. Bail was set at $2,500 and I was his phone call. I figured I’d help him out since I still had bank to make on my card and I didn’t want Johnny to think he could sue me (really Gramps) because he got so fucked up at my house (well, not my — my house). The clerk let me drop the bail on Silver (my nickname for the Samuel L. card).
No worries, Johnny was good for it. He lives with his folks too and has no bills, though he does have a Pink Cadillac Coupe de Ville his mom gave him before she was sued by Mary Kay for selling fake shit on Amazon.
Twoa for Dua!
Gracie called me after the party. She is one sweevil sista who has a Dua Lipa concert on her bucket list. Except for the sex phone calls, I haven’t had a date since I pretended to be a Formula One driver at Hussong’s Cantina in Mexico. How the hell did she know Ford Torino wasn’t an Italian team on the circuit?
Anyway, floor seats and a backstage pass cost me two grand. I couldn’t understand a word of Dua’s songs. She was too busy squirming on the floor. Didn’t matter, Gracie was stoked and mo’ chedda for this guy!
The GOAT and the Kardashians.
I saw Tom Brady, the GOAT, on a commercial for crypto something. Dude is a baller with 7 rings. As far as I’m concerned, he’s the most trustworthy athlete in history. He and Samuel L. must be bros. I put $1000 on Silver and got .070 worth of bitcoin. Startin’ low but gonna climb with TB at my side. I’ll be making some serious scrilla!
I still have a grand left to maximize my payday. I’m feeling like Scott Disick, the dude who fell into a fortune after knocking up Kourtney Kardashian.
Soon to be a walking bank roll, I’m off to Voodoo Tattoo where Lola the Ink Goddess will do her magic.
Dress for Success!
I’m tired of assholes calling me a jackwagon because I tag their cars with tickets. I tell Lola I need some street cred. I want to look sophisticated yet refined, kinda’ like a Heineken but not a Bud Lite. I need the world to know this richling. Besides, I want to give a shout out to my financial advisors.
Lola was all over it. First, she tattooed a pair of smart guy’s glasses around my eyes. Then, she added a checkerboard to my forehead showing I’ve been Kinged.
On my left cheek she tatted $ilver. On the right cheek is a mini face of Samuel L. On my chin, I pay homage to TB with a football inscribed GOAT. Finally, Scott Disick scrolls across my neck in black and red ink.
$8,000 on the Nose — Time to Stack!
My first statement comes in and I see my minimum payment is $80. I can live with that. However, I didn’t see any cash back, so I called the Silver people. They told me it would show up on my next statement. Liars! The statement rolls in with a minimum payment is $260! What? I call the Silver people because Samuel L. said no interest for 15 months. Silver guy says it’s only for customers who have excellent credit:
Wait, I have excellent credit?
No sir, you do not. You have good credit.
What’s the difference?
The difference is you don’t qualify for the no-interest card.
What the fuck does that mean?
I can explain it like this. It means you didn’t get the fancy card, but you did get the good card. Does that help, sir?
Fuck no, you condescending weasel! Why is my bill $260?
Because the monthly interest is included in the bill, sir.
How much interest do I pay?
You have an APR of 26.99% which, by the way, can fluctuate, sir.
Are you fucking crazy, you pudwacking shyster?
No sir. I am not.
So how much will my bill go down if I pay the $260?
$80.
That’s not what Samuel L said?
Sir, I’m sure if you watch the advertisement and pay close attention to the details in the microscopic print, you will see I am correct.
But I’m supposed to get cash back and an extra $200?
No $200 for just good credit, sir. You did sir, however, receive $120 in cash back. Would you like to apply it to your bill?
You muthafuckin’ snake off the plane! Tell Samuel L. to shove Silver up his ass with a fucking lightning bolt! I live with my grandparents. You’ll never see a fucking dime! Oh, and by the way, tell fucking Tom Brady I lost my culo on his fucking crypto bullshit!
Sir, can I help you with anything else?
Yeah, you can blow me too!
Fucking party! Dua whatever the fuck her name is! Johnny the asshole! I look like a fucking Monopoly board. Shit, I could’ve blown the eight grand on my new dream, a mile-long slip and slide business. I could’ve paid off the fucking snow maker or added to my traffic cone collection. Payments up the ass forever! Quicksilver? Hell no! More like Quicksand!
WHAT’S IN MY WALLET SAMUEL L.? A FUCKING CRAYON!
Author’s note. This is satire. Credit cards vary in the conditions, limits, charges, interest, cash back, and other rewards available. According to Lending Tree, Americans have $887 billion in credit. In 2021, credit card balances rose by $100 billion, the largest percentage increase in 20 years. According to CNBC, the average credit card debt is $6,194. 49% of credit card holders use their cards to by essentials. According to Lantern by Sofi, only 13% of cardholders carry a monthly balance of $0. According to Consumer Financial Protection Bureau (CFPB) paying only the minimum payment required may help keep your account in good standing. And you typically won’t face any late fees or penalties. “If you pay the minimum amount and make fewer purchases with your card, you might be able to pay down the balance on the card.” According to CNBC, cash back cardholders earn an average of $278/year. Just sayin’.
