Author: Marc Teale

June 9, 2009

Correction to my last post… I’ve gone on partial unemployment because my employer can’t afford to pay me what I’m worth. I missed a few hours of work two weeks ago because of Memorial Day, which caused some kind of snafu relating to how much they’re willing to pay me for the week. I had to call to speak to a claims representative in order to iron out the details.

It took me 33 calls before I could even be placed on hold. Their system is so overburdened with claimants they don’t even have room in the queue for everyone trying to call in. It took me 15 minutes on hold to find out that they don’t have an answer for me, and that someone will call me back in a few days.

I’m still looking for a new job, this time in Seattle.

April 2, 2009

“Look at that,” Megan said, nodding towards the TV. “Those used to be for little brown children.”

I looked up from my laptop to see the end of a commercial soliciting donations for an aid organization–one that works entirely within the United States, providing food and aid to Americans.

This was yet another ominous first for me. Living in the richest nation on the planet, I never suspected for a moment I’d see commercials entreating me to “Feed the Virginians… before it’s too late.” That’s not a direct quote–I didn’t see the entire ad–but it was disquieting nonetheless.


It’s been nearly a month since my last post, mostly because there have been glimmers of hope on the horizon. The Dow is over 8,000 today, and I got a job three weeks ago.

It pays significantly less than my last job and (at the moment) has zero benefits. I’m going to start looking for another job in the near future. At the moment, I’m somewhat pleased to be off of unemployment and slowly paying up the taxes I accrued. Since taxes aren’t automatically deducted from unemployment payments, it’s easy to rack up significant taxes in a hurry.

As for the “somewhat pleased” bit–the pay at my new job is insultingly low. The position is good for my career since I’m a manager, but I was making more money on unemployment.


A post on The Consumerist today offered a simple solution to reduce monthly bills–ask. So many consumers are dropping services that providers are willing to make a deal to keep a client.

With nothing to lose, I called Charter Cable and went straight to the disconnection department. I had no intention of dropping service, but they would have the best deals available to offer customers. A few minutes later, I’d dropped my bill by $20 a month with no reduction in service. I tried AT&T as well. They were willing to drop my bill by $10 a month, but I would have lost a lot of minutes from my plan. It wasn’t worth the tradeoff.


Megan and I tried to go to brew pub on the west side of town on Sunday to get a beer and some food. Every time we’ve gone in, it’s been half-full. This time, it was out of business.

The first casualty of the depression: pride.

Megan, a friend, and I were at a coffee hangout down the street from our apartment today, and I saw the following sign.

The text of the sign reads:

Help Escape during this time of Economic Crisis
Invest in the Community by Donating to Escape
Checks can be written to: Escape Java Joint

Never in my life have I seen a business openly beg for donations to stay afloat. There were definitely fewer customers around, but I think that’s in part due to their new wifi policy: when you buy something, you can get a password good for two hours of wifi use. Normally, there’s a room full of people on laptops. Today, only a couple. It’s most likely that the people not there were the ones who weren’t buying anything anyhow, but it was still a significant decrease.

There are four hip, urban coffee shops within a few blocks of my apartment. This economy can’t support all of them. I’m really hoping that if someone goes, it’s the place on the corner, Mother Fool’s. It’s Vegan, so all their bakery is made without dairy (even though you can get cream for your coffee…) and tastes horrible. Their scones are mealy paste. I rarely carry cash, and they don’t take credit cards. This means that nine times out of ten I can’t buy anything from them anyway. No credit cards? Seriously? What is this, 1974?

After we left Escape, Megan and her friend walked down the street to a great little restaurant called Bab’s French Quarter Kitchen. They were planning to get a snack and have a couple beers. I ducked back into the apartment so Megan could have some “girl time” with her friend–but mostly because I wasn’t hungry.

A few minutes after I’d taken off my shoes and jacket, Megan called my phone. Bab’s was closing at 3pm today… and never opening again. If I wanted anything off their menu, this was the last time I’d ever be able to get it. Their pastalaya, a jambalaya made with pasta, was delicious. I figured I could get it to go and have it for lunch tomorrow one more time.

I hit the street again, and walked in and sat down. By the time I got there, the kitchen had closed.