According to Tom Hanks in "You've Got Mail", going to the mattresses means going to war.
The Godfather is the sum of all wisdom. The Godfather is the answer to any question.
-What should I pack for my summer vacation? "Leave the gun, take the cannoli."
-What day of the week is it? "Maunday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday."
And the answer to your question is "Go to the mattresses."
You're at war. "It's not personal, it's business. It's not personal it's business." Recite that to yourself every time you feel you're losing your nerve. I know you worry about being brave, this is your chance. Fight. Fight to the death.
The fact that I am quoting "You've Got Mail" in my "I'm going to be a hard-ass, angry blog" nullifies any scary threats I could come up with, so I guess I won't even try.
The reason I'm going to the mattresses is that I got a letter from a collections agency for $744 for a credit card that I haven't used in years. At first, I thought it was fraudulent-- that someone was trying to get me to call in and give my information, and then steal my identity or something.
It turns out that $200+ charges were made on a credit card that I thought was canceled, and the interest has been piling up for years. The weird thing is that as the interest piled up, no letters ever came.
I spend several horrible hours this afternoon with the credit card company and the collections agency, holding back tears the whole time as they berated me with details and a lack of details (details on the dates of like 30 letters they supposedly sent that were somehow all mysteriously stolen from my mailbox, and a lack of details on where the original charge came from). It was so frustrating.
Just as I was about to fold and pay the money, I decided to do what any independent, self respecting woman would do: I called my mom for help. And she told me to do what any mature, thinking adult would do: call any friend I knew that was an attorney.
So, after having, um talked to my lawyer (gosh, that sounds so good!), I have decided that I am going to the mattresses. No giant credit card corporation is going to take me down! No shyster, slick talking scary collections agency is going to intimidate me! I'll break their knees! Yeah!
Okay, I honestly don't know if anything I say will work. I feel pretty trapped, but I also feel my sense of justice kicking into overdrive, and I am ready to fight tooth and nail for that $744.
Wish me luck. And if you know any lawyers, send 'em my way =)