— Fiction —

William Faulkner Questions George Dickel’s Charge on His Credit Card Bill

Dear George Dickel Tennessee Whiskey Customer Service:

I received the George Dickel scented candle promptly and as promised, and for that I am grateful beyond all human reckoning hereunto documented in the annals of interstate commerce and aroma. However, your drafting of my checking account—agreed upon though it were—is listed on my statement as “TENNESSEE DICK TULLAHOMA TN.”

You are a merchant offering to enkindle the sweet and legal scent of Elysium; I am a Mississippian with the relevant credit and tackle. This much is clear to both of us. Were the world as I would have it, we would have enough. Yet I fear the usurers keeping watch over my bank account are not wise to your shorthand. What will they think of this “TENNESSEE DICK TULLAHOMA TN”? I ask. “Not well,” I imagine.

Could this foul charge have its figurative “T” crossed, and be made “TENNESSEE DICKEL TULLAHOMA TN”? Suchwise, what was falsely (if unwittingly) profane would be known as actually (if marginally)
blessed—an honest trade of charity for sacrament.

This is our noble transaction, Ms. Jones, and I ask that the record show nothing short of its essence entire. I await your words and deeds with trust and aplomb.

Fondly,
Bill Faulkner