"Со мной такого не случится, я держу Господа Бога за бороду"
The setbacks that led to Niffenegger’s life outside — a word she prefers to “homeless,” which she can’t bring herself to say — started in early 2019, when she lost her job at a call center. She tried to forestall financial disaster with credit cards, applying for two that hit her with $89 in fees for every $300 she charged. She ran up debts of nearly $1,000 buying groceries, and pretty soon she couldn’t make the payments. “My credit just exploded and went down to nothing,” she says. The Credit Karma app gave her a score of 440. By the algorithmic logic of America’s widely used credit-scoring system, with its scale ranging from 300 to 850, this made her a bad risk.
Shortly after her work at the call center ended, she was evicted from her condo — another stain on her credit. No landlord would rent to her. “I had no way to escape that eviction,” she says. For the next six months or so, she stayed with friends, then squatted in an empty house with a couple and their kids until they were kicked out. Finding a bathroom became a daily struggle. Niffenegger, who was born with one kidney, suffers from chronic kidney stones, and without access to showers, she repeatedly came down with urinary-tract infections.
At 51, she had little in the way of family resources to draw on. Her mother died about a decade earlier, and her relationship with her father was strained. “Three hots and a cot,” he told her dismissively, when she called him to ask for help — he was joking that she should get herself arrested in order to stay housed. Still, when he came in from California to spend Thanksgiving with her, she says, “He was shocked at the condition I was in.” Together, they drove around the city, submitting rental applications at various apartment complexes. Many didn’t take dogs, but she couldn’t live without Brownie. Others turned her down when they looked up her credit history and saw the eviction on her record. Defeated, Niffenegger and her father bought some warm clothes at Goodwill in preparation for a winter outside.
The room isn’t cheap: Rent when she moved in was just under $310 a week, or $1,240 a month, far above the $728 considered fair market rent for a studio apartment in her Las Vegas ZIP code, according to the Department of Housing and Urban Development, and much more than the $700 a month she once paid for her last home, a one-bedroom condo. But for someone with her credit rating, it has been the only way to avoid living outside.
One day in late July last year, Niffenegger walked into her rental office to make a payment — she was several weeks behind on the rent — and she overheard some employees discussing eviction plans. She quickly left without paying. This way, at least she would still have some cash left if she ended up outside again. The eviction notice showed up on her door the next day.
Отсюда
Одинокая тетка в 51 потеряла работу. Найти быстро не смогла, потом ей перестали давать кредит, выселили из кондо (это значит что банк отобрал жилье). Работы нет, родни нет (мать умерла, отец - мудак), одинокая. Её тип работы выводят в Индию, переучиваться в 50 непросто. Кредитная история плохая, выселение - и всё. Сдавать жилье ей не решаются, субсидированное жилье не дают (она ж не Кремлевский Курант гешефтмахер-бЭжЭнец от анального страдания в совке). И что дальше? Только бомжевать и сдохнуть. Ей еще повезло, чтио папа не окончательный мудак и помог ей заселиться в мотель, чтобы хотя бы как-то себя в порядок привести.
И так жить - даже дороже, чем просто снимать квартиру В Лас Вегасе жилье стоит 700 баксов в месяц (примерно столько же она платила за своё кондо), а мотель - 1240. Видимо, она как-то подрабатывала, но денег все равно не хватало и её выселили.
К чему я это? Это не про ужасную ОмериГу, это про то, что в стране должна быть какая-то сеть социальной поддержки и переучивание тех, чья профессия становится ненужной или за счет технического прогресса, или за счет вывода рабочих мест в Индию с Китаем. Ругать социализм и налоги можно много и со вкусом, но мы все под Богом ходим и с любым такая хрень и хтонь может случиться. Особенно в республиканских штатах типа Невады, где бизнес защищён, а вот работники - нихрена.
Shortly after her work at the call center ended, she was evicted from her condo — another stain on her credit. No landlord would rent to her. “I had no way to escape that eviction,” she says. For the next six months or so, she stayed with friends, then squatted in an empty house with a couple and their kids until they were kicked out. Finding a bathroom became a daily struggle. Niffenegger, who was born with one kidney, suffers from chronic kidney stones, and without access to showers, she repeatedly came down with urinary-tract infections.
At 51, she had little in the way of family resources to draw on. Her mother died about a decade earlier, and her relationship with her father was strained. “Three hots and a cot,” he told her dismissively, when she called him to ask for help — he was joking that she should get herself arrested in order to stay housed. Still, when he came in from California to spend Thanksgiving with her, she says, “He was shocked at the condition I was in.” Together, they drove around the city, submitting rental applications at various apartment complexes. Many didn’t take dogs, but she couldn’t live without Brownie. Others turned her down when they looked up her credit history and saw the eviction on her record. Defeated, Niffenegger and her father bought some warm clothes at Goodwill in preparation for a winter outside.
The room isn’t cheap: Rent when she moved in was just under $310 a week, or $1,240 a month, far above the $728 considered fair market rent for a studio apartment in her Las Vegas ZIP code, according to the Department of Housing and Urban Development, and much more than the $700 a month she once paid for her last home, a one-bedroom condo. But for someone with her credit rating, it has been the only way to avoid living outside.
One day in late July last year, Niffenegger walked into her rental office to make a payment — she was several weeks behind on the rent — and she overheard some employees discussing eviction plans. She quickly left without paying. This way, at least she would still have some cash left if she ended up outside again. The eviction notice showed up on her door the next day.
Отсюда
Одинокая тетка в 51 потеряла работу. Найти быстро не смогла, потом ей перестали давать кредит, выселили из кондо (это значит что банк отобрал жилье). Работы нет, родни нет (мать умерла, отец - мудак), одинокая. Её тип работы выводят в Индию, переучиваться в 50 непросто. Кредитная история плохая, выселение - и всё. Сдавать жилье ей не решаются, субсидированное жилье не дают (она ж не Кремлевский Курант гешефтмахер-бЭжЭнец от анального страдания в совке). И что дальше? Только бомжевать и сдохнуть. Ей еще повезло, чтио папа не окончательный мудак и помог ей заселиться в мотель, чтобы хотя бы как-то себя в порядок привести.
И так жить - даже дороже, чем просто снимать квартиру В Лас Вегасе жилье стоит 700 баксов в месяц (примерно столько же она платила за своё кондо), а мотель - 1240. Видимо, она как-то подрабатывала, но денег все равно не хватало и её выселили.
К чему я это? Это не про ужасную ОмериГу, это про то, что в стране должна быть какая-то сеть социальной поддержки и переучивание тех, чья профессия становится ненужной или за счет технического прогресса, или за счет вывода рабочих мест в Индию с Китаем. Ругать социализм и налоги можно много и со вкусом, но мы все под Богом ходим и с любым такая хрень и хтонь может случиться. Особенно в республиканских штатах типа Невады, где бизнес защищён, а вот работники - нихрена.