Vikings Credit Card F.T.W.

Sheer exhilaration of a schoolboy spread througout my bones as I opened my mailbox today: A Minnesota Vikings pre-approved credit card.

Days of recklessly spending and living life with the motto of “straight cash homey” are now over.

I don’t know where this ranks in the all-time high for fanboys and fangirls of the like, but how would you react if, say, Hello Kitty offered you a credit card with a football stadium full of perks? Or if Harry Potter befriended you for a lifetime of all-out wizardry?

The best part was the element of surprise as the package was randomly mailed to me. I guess calling myself The Chosen One would be appropriate here, minus all the LeBron James connotations.

Opening the envelope, I almost cried, kind of like the day when I almost cried when Nate Poole caught a circus touchdown on the last play of the season and ended the Vikings shot at the playoffs, or when Gary Anderson went Ray Finkle and missed his only kick of the 1998 season in overtime of the NFC Championship game.

But these near-shed tears were of joy. What gave me an even warmer and fuzzier feeling was the personalization of my computer-generated package. It had “Manouk Akopyan” written on the front of envelope next to the Vikings logo.

I recently wrote how I deemed an American Express credit card offer to be a “programmatic non-fit” for me. All I can say now is that good things come to those who wait.

Now as a fan of the Minnesota Vikings for the last 15 years, with a few HailMary’s, I anticipate a Super Bowl run in 2013.

As for my card, I can already picture myself screaming touchdown to my cashier at Ralphs all season long every time I make a crucial, life-saving purchase of seven-layer bean dip.

Pompous Badge Declined

There are several landmark moments in people’s lives: the birth of their first child, successfully passing kidney stones, pre-approved American Express credit cards – and not neccessarily in that order.

I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing neither, but I could say I once got close.

Because today, I earned the important distinction of having the “oppurtunity” to apply for an AmEx Gold Card, to which I say shove it, because, even in snobby standards, that is an awfully narcisstical way of framing my passage into pomposity.

What’s next, being honored to pay $125 in annual fees while getting the numbers to all of Donald Trump’s ex girlfriends synced to my cell phone?

Nevertheless, congratulations are in order – or so my letter says. Here’s how I celebrated.