Just when you thought this blog was dead, here I am. Surely it must be something big to justify breaking the silence, you may be thinking. And you may be right. I've said in the past that there were three things I wanted to see happen to Ruddy Ruddy: get registered to vote, get a credit card, and get drafted.
Well, as it happens, I just got back from the polls, where I'm sorry to say I voted as Peter Lynn. But when I got into the house, sitting there, on the kitchen table, was an envelope addressed to Ruddy Ruddy. From the Royal Bank. Containing an application for an RBC Royal Bank Visa Platinum card with no annual fee, and a low, low 1.9% introductory interest rate.
I'm dying to fill it out and send it back, naturally. I'd really like to know if it's possible that Ruddy Ruddy—a wholly nonexistent person—qualifies for a better credit card than I do. On the one hand, Ruddy Ruddy isn't crushed under the weight of several years' worth of student loans due to excessive collegiate dilly-dallying, unlike your author. On the other hand, Ruddy Ruddy does still have outstanding debts owed to collection agencies over ill-gotten nylon stockings and Harlequin romance novels, which I do not. So whose credit is better?
Sadly, it seems as though I shall ever know, as there's simply no way I can fill out this application and return it to the Royal Bank, which would be highly fraudulent. First, I bank there and would like to continue being allowed to do so. And second, I would also like to continue to be allowed to walk around as a free man. I'd never last in prison. I own too many nylon stockings and Harlequin romance novels, for one thing.
You hear that, Royal Bank? If you get a credit card application from Ruddy Ruddy, it didn't come from me. Honestly.
