That Day the Credit Card Bill Comes… |

It’s rare that anything positive comes to me through the mailbox these days. Typically, my walk from the driveway to the trash can hidden underneath the sink consists of eyeballing and sorting through unwanted catalogs, IRA statements, and unsolicited junk mail. It’s just a daily chore. But once a month I get my American Express bill. I always know when it’s coming. We meet at the mailbox at 4 p.m. right around the 20th of every month. The back of the envelope resembles a sinister smile saying, “Open me…I dare you.”

I don’t comply. I just look at it and it stares back at me. It’s like the moment before a duel with matched weapons and agreed-upon rules. I try to assess my challenger before grabbing it. Then I feel for its weight and thickness, just like when I was waiting for college acceptance or rejection letters. You can tell a lot about an American Express bill from the envelope.