I suppose you expect my column to focus on the murder of the three teenagers, the murder of the Arab boy, or Operation Protective Edge.
You may also have expected the column to deal with the suffering of the residents of the south, the need for us all to mobilize for the benefit of the business owners there, the shell fired the other day from Mount Hermon in Syria, the dissolution of Likud-Beitenu, or the approval, on first reading, of the VAT law.
In fact, I planned to write about some of the above. At any given moment I changed the plans, along with changing moods and titles.
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But no.
Exactly two days ago, I went through quite a shock. A bag fell on me.
It all started with a conversation from the chairman of an organization where I volunteer. "Hello, Micha," he said. Nothing prepared me for what would follow.
""We have a volunteer who got into financial trouble," said the chairman. "I know you only deal with the business sector, but maybe you can help.".
""With pleasure," I said. And yet, nothing prepared me for what would follow.
I contacted the volunteer, who told me in a nutshell what had happened and what the story was. I listened with half an ear. I was busy with something else. "In order to start the process," I told him, "give me the phone number of the person you owe money to. I will meet with him and try to figure out how to resolve and/or spread out the debt....""
He gave it to me. "His name is Ch," he said.
I rang.
And I fell into the abyss of women.
One of the soldiers of the gray market. A dirty criminal of the blackest kind. Lender with a cut interest rate of a million percent per day.
The guy, named Che, was actually very happy that I called. He decided (it turns out that's the way it is in the gray market) that if I call about my "friend's" business, I'm essentially taking responsibility for the debt.
I made an appointment with him yesterday at 2:30 PM, in one of the central cities.
I arrived at the meeting. I don't really remember the rest.
Three gentlemanly soldiers arrived at the scene and searched every stone to make sure I wasn't bringing any police with me. Only then did they give permission for the boss to sit down with me.
Two guys arrived. C. and another one - A. They wanted to make something very clear: Your "friend," they said, took 18,000 NIS from us.
""So...?" I asked.
""Now it's 420,000 NIS. And you better bring a bank check.".
When I tried to ask what interest rate they were using to calculate the amount, they very quickly let me know that I was wrong.
""A bank check," said C. "Or a bag of bills," said A.
They showed me pictures on their iPhones of the "friend"'s house. And of his children. And of the organization's car that he drives from time to time. Voluntarily. To show me that they are serious. One of them, by the way, is a well-known businessman. He runs a large business with two branches, and at the same time earns a side income from loans of 18,000 NIS with a repayment of 420,000 NIS. In small.
I'm still far from solving this story, and I'm hopeful that maybe I'll be able to do something before there are any losses.
I'm just dedicating this column to anyone who is tempted by newspaper ads for: 7,000 NIS without guarantors, even for the disabled! By issuing checks and with immediate approval! Or to "nice" changers who generously give unlimited loans. Or to various parties who are willing to lend without prior inspection and without requiring guarantors.
Guys, stop with the nonsense. You're playing with your lives.
Do you need money? Go to the bank. Or a friend. Or your dad. Or the pension fund. Or your provident fund.
In our sector, there are so many options. So many possibilities. And perhaps, precisely because of this, we have so many stories of falls and crashes, and the 'sting' of others, and stories of loans and reincarnations.
quite!
I don't wish for you to ever meet A. or C. in your life, and certainly not to owe them a single penny.
Believe me.
And it was beautiful, one hour earlier. Our lives are honey. With the missiles and with Lieberman's withdrawal from the Likud.
The guy I tried to help doesn't even know that these things happened in our country. He's busy running away. Mostly from himself.
Have a wonderful day. I wish the same for myself.
your,
Micah.
