My First Date With Carmen

Over time, the credit card merchant account restrictions began to ease. Our initial processing limit of $20,000 per month gradually increased, and after eight months with zero chargebacks, the bank finally granted us full approval to process all of our subscription orders.

* * *

Then one afternoon, I logged into the account and froze.

The balance had crossed one million dollars.

I was officially a millionaire in less than a year.

* * *

Of course, not all of that was earned income under accrual accounting rules. We were recognizing only one-twelfth of the subscription revenue each time a new issue was delivered to subscribers.

Still, I was staring at a bank statement that showed seven figures.

And it felt very real.

That moment called for a celebration. We hadn’t taken any real time off for months.

I came in from the post office, walked upstairs, and said, “Carmen, tomorrow is Friday. I’m taking you out to dinner. Bring a small bag — and don’t forget your passport.”

* * *

By noon the next day, we were in a cab headed to JFK, boarding a flight to Paris.

Saturday night, we had dinner near the Eiffel Tower. Sunday was spent sightseeing. By Monday morning, we were back at work.

* * *

I still travel that way.

Just before Christmas this year, Marilyn and I flew to Zurich and London. We had breakfast at Claridge’s, bought organic CackleBean eggs in the basement of Harrods, and flew back home.

A weekend.

Then Monday came again.