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Debt Consolidation Service Testimonial
A Personal Look at a Debt Consolidation Service
For as long as I can remember, I had dreamed of owning my own sports hall of fame store. I opened it when I was just 24 with an unsecured loan co-signed by my friend Dave.
"Now get going on making that fortune you've been bragging about," he said on the day he signed for me.
Three months into running the store, the loan money was nearly used up. The advertising had cost a lot more than I'd expected, and my merchandise wasn't moving. I had just enough left in the bank to make that month's store rent and loan payment. If only I could buy some more time, I thought. I just know business is going to pick up.
That night I saw a commercial for a small business credit card. I applied over the phone the next day and was approved. This is the ticket, I thought. This will get me through until my business really takes off.
For the next several months, I really stepped up my advertising. The credit card company sent me statement checks that made it all that much easier to put advertising and operating costs on the card. I even paid one month's rent with one of the statement checks. Despite all my efforts, I still had most of my original inventory. I tried slashing my prices and saw a little pick-up in business, but with less profit than I'd planned on. It still wasn't enough to cover the bills that were now coming in, usually in sets of three - what with the rent on the place, the loan payment and, worst of all, the payment on the credit card, which was now maxed out.
On April first, I got a call from Dave. He was trying to be nice, but it seemed the bank had called him about the loan payment which was now 30 days late.
"You've got the money, right?" he asked me. I didn't know what to say. Dave had
been my friend since junior high school. I couldn't imagine lying to him, but telling the truth seemed even worse. I closed up shop the very next day. I was still just 24.
I sold my entire inventory at auction and made just enough for two months on the loan payment. I was determined that Dave wouldn't have to pay for any part of the loan, but in the months that followed I know he must have made at least a few. He never called me again after that first phone call. I was doing everything I could to keep up with living expenses and the payments on both my personal and business credit cards. I even moved back in with my parents.
It was my father who took me out fishing one day and offered his help in settling my debts. I started to protest, because if there was anything worse than the idea of my best friend Dave paying for my mistakes, it was the thought of my parents who'd worked so hard their whole lives having to do it, but he waved his hand and told me that wasn't what he meant.
"My good friend Roy--you remember Roy?—well, his son works for a debt consolidation service." I started to protest again. I'd heard too many bad things about those services: how they didn't necessarily pay your bills on time, how your credit rating could really suffer from the way they operated.
My dad just looked at me after I finished my protest. "What's more important to you, Chris? Your credit score in the short term? Or doing the right thing and getting these debts behind you for good?"
My dad got on the phone with me and the debt consolidation service the next day. Roy's son Ray said he would make some calls directly to my creditors to get the interest on my debt reduced or eliminated. He set up what he called a debt management plan or DMP. I would make one payment straight to the debt consolidation service each month, which they would use to steadily pay off the bills left over from the store. My dad was right. Just knowing that I was doing the right thing made me feel better.
It turned out Ray was quite a sports fan himself, and we spent about 20 minutes after the business was done just swapping stories and comparing favorite teams. As we walked out, even though I still knew I had a long way to go, I already felt freer, as though getting out of my debt was something I actually could accomplish.
"Just one more thing to do," I said as Dad and I climbed into the truck. Dad asked what that was and I replied, "Call Dave."
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