Back in 2017 the credit reporting bureau Equifax suffered a data breach so massive that it could be seen from the deepest depths of outer space. They’ll now have to get right with their god (the Federal Trade Commission), and settle with everyone who got screwed over. For most people, that will mean receiving a check for $125 (maybe), or six years of free credit monitoring from Equifax, the company that gave away all your personal information in the first place.
It’s 2019, so $125 doesn’t buy as much as it used to. However with careful planning and selection, anyone can make very good use out of this blood money (the blood being our own, of course). Here are the three things I’m currently considering:
(Note: This list purposely excludes spending on anything considered safe and smart, such as lottery tickets, MoviePass, or multi-level marketing
- One share of Equifax stock. By owning a negligible percentage of the firm at fault here, I can become the company insider who prevents another massive security breach. Unfortunately it’s only trading about three points off its all-time high of $145.44 — there are never any real consequences for episodes of corporate tomfuckery — so barring a massive drop in price, this may be too expensive. Also, no one will listen to me if I only own one share.
- Taco Bell. It’s America’s favorite fast food restaurant (source: me), and throwing a party with $125 worth of Doritos Locos tacos will help friends, family, and assorted pets briefly forget that some asshole hacker in Russia will one day use our compromised social security numbers to completely annihilate our credit.
- Go to Fiverr and commission 25 different writers to pen a 25 biographies for my alter ego, Pablo Detroit. By day, Pablo’s a mild-mannered corporate insurance fraud investigator. But by night, he transforms into slightly less mild-mannered corporate insurance fraud investigator trying to maximize his overtime pay because he wants to payoff the mortgage on his two-bedroom townhouse in North Hollywood by the fall of 2020. Pablo’s not the most intriguing of my alter egos, so I need a biographer (or 25) to make him a little more exciting.
Or if I come to my senses, maybe I’ll just cash it out into one dollar bills and hide it across the county of Los Angeles for a rainy day.