Everything I’m Going to Do with My $3.32 Wells Fargo Cash Rewards
Throw the whopping thirty-three dimes and two pennies I was just awarded up in the air and roll around on them. Rejoice! For I am now wealthy! What have I done to deserve such a vast amount of capital?!
Add “new money” to my Instagram bio.
Start waving the way the Royals do.
Find my high school bullies on Facebook and message them all individually to alert them of my newfound financial status.
Start looking down on those who are $3.32 poorer than I. Can you imagine….
When prompted on a card machine to donate to charity, proudly click no and announce to the cashier that now that I got that sweet, sweet money I don’t “do charity….” Unless I get a tax break of course… because duh. I’m rich, not stupid.
Pay a month’s rent in 1958.
Pay for four years of college at an accredited university in 1945.
Make a down payment on a house in 1910.
Buy an entire motherfucking town in 1885. Name it “Wells Fargo Town” in honor of the ever so generous Mr. Wells Fargo himself. Erect a statue in his honor. Walk past it every day and lock eyes with his stony face and say “thank you” as a single tear rolls down my cheek.
Rejoice the heavens above that I am now financially stable. Thank you, Mr. Wells Fargo! I no longer have any problems. Everyone thinks I’m awesome and hot and I somehow got taller?! You have solved all my woes and rid me of my burdens. I do not know what I could ever do to repay you… but I definitely won’t be paying you back the $3.32; I’m rich now and I intend to stay that way.