[ WP ] Poor people are able to pawn off their memories .

`` All right, Mr. Johannsen. Remember, you have 60 days to pay us your principal and interest. The total for all of these memories comes to...'' The pretty girl in the navy blue scrubs paused. `` $ 13,582.59. Now, I know some things might be fuzzy or unfamiliar to you, but you should be fine. Your wife is waiting for you out there.'' She pointed at a wooden door to my right. `` She should have the Visa gift card with your money on it. Have a nice day, Mr. Johannsen,'' she said, smiling. The woman was hot. I wanted to sit there and stare at her dumbly a little while longer, but she ushered me out the door. 
 
 A woman was sitting in the waiting room: mid-fifties, maybe hot thirty years ago, but wrinkles and grown-out gray roots made it hard to see. She smiled and stood up, putting an arm out towards me. `` Frankie!'' she rasped, `` how do you feel?'' 
 
 I turned back to the nurse. `` Um, who's that?'' I asked, gesturing to the gray-rooted woman in the worn and faded purple pantsuit. 
 
 The woman shrieked, a high, piercing scream. `` You bitch! You said he would n't forget his family!'' 
 
 `` Ma'am,'' said the young hottie. Was she single? `` I told you he would *probably* remember you. As I said, and as was written on all of the documents both you *and* Mr. Johannsen signed, There are no guarantees on either side of this procedure. Mr. Johannsen is the first person to undergo the full memory pawn at this facility. We have his memories stored for 60 days. After that, we hold the right to re-sell them.'' 
 
 The older woman looked at me as tears trickled down her cheek. `` Are you happy now, Frankie? We've got the money. Now let's go.'' It took me a minute to realize she was talking to me. 
 
 `` I... guess so?'' I said unsurely. 
 
 She led me to a dented blue pickup with rusting wheel wells, opened the passenger door, and waited. I took the hint and got in. 
 
 The woman's mascara ran down her cheek. She looked over at me as she fumbled with the key in the ignition. 
 
 `` Tell me, Frankie. Do you even remember why you sold your memories?'' 
 
 Slowly, I shook my head and looked at my feet. 
 
 `` Do you remember me?'' Shake. `` Our kids?'' Shake. 
 
 Her head fell to the steering wheel and gasped between the sobs, slowly building back to a wail. 
 
 Gingerly, I opened the door to the pickup cab and walked away, not sure where I was going -- or even what city I was in.
