I've been doing a little research lately, planning to purchase a cd. Depending on the terms of the cd, the rates range from a whopping .15% (no, that's not a typo, that's actually supposed to be fifteen one-hundredths of one percent) to a nearly Winfreyesque 2.47% which I found at the Merrimack Valley Credit Union. I don't actually know where the Merrimack Valley is, but for a 2.47% apr (2.50% apy) I'm pretty sure I'd be willing to drive there. The CSR on the other end of the line explained to me that I needed to live or work in the Merrimack Valley to join the MVCU. "Well, live, work or worship," she corrected herself.
Wait. What? Let's back up, please. I realize you can know for sure where I live, and I don't live in the Merrimack Valley. And I assume you can easily check my employment, and you'd learn fast enough that I don't work in the Merrimack Valley. Struck by my own deviousness (and giggling), I asked the CSR, "Exactly what do I need to do to prove that I worship in the Merrimack Valley, anyway?" (Which I don't.) When I couldn't answer her straightforward, "Where do you worship?", I heard her clutch her pearls through the telephone line. The poor lady gasped, "Well, you wouldn't lie about that, would you?" Oh, lady, you live in the Merrimack Valley, don't you? You have no idea what I might do for 2.47%.
Luckily for my soul in the afterlife, another credit union in my area offers a similar term cd at 2.44%. So for a mere three-hundredths of a point I opted out of eternal damnation. Because I can't be bought.
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