It was quite a while ago but I still remember it. My small family, three kids and a wife, was finally making a go of it in San Diego. I had quit college and found a job as a delivery truck driver. We had a two bedroom apartment in Hillcrest from which I walked to work every day. I sort of liked it since it was down 6th Avenue along Balboa Park and only three miles one way. It was walking home uphill that sometimes wore me down. Anyway, we had caught up on our bills, this was before god gave us all credit cards, and even saved up $100 which we had in a savings account at B of A. It was coming up on Spring when we, my wife and I, decided maybe we could afford a car but we needed a little help with the down payment so I went into the bank to ask for a loan. That was when I learned how banks work. No was the answer. I didn’t have a long enough work history, a year and a half, and I didn’t make enough, $2.12 an hour, to justify the bank taking a chance on me. I was stunned. But not as much as I was this morning when I opened up my LA Times to find out that those very same banks that refused me then are getting theirs now.
Banks and how they work