Full disclosure. This is Gonzo style Journalism.

In keeping to the American tradition I am insanely thin and I am lazy to boot.

Today the forecast said that it was going to be a high of 67 in Chicago. All of the residents are staying in, and one asked me if I ever was going to let God and Jesus into my heart, to which I made the devil sign and prayed for another children’s crusade.

Since it’s cold out and my already snowy complexion doesn’t need to become any whiter I opted to stay in today, as I will do all winter except for when I am traveling for the holidays.

In my facility, every resident has their own mailbox. Mine, hasn’t been opened in about a month since I don’t have any mail that’s worth reading. The only things I get are checks, and advertisements, to which I send back, bundled with ads the fowl company didn’t send me. I make sure the envelope is nice and big so they will have to pay a heaping amount of shipping costs only to open up ads. So far, this method has caused five companies to stop sending me mail.

Today however I have something golden. It’s a check for the articles that I published last month. After I clutch the check with my life, safeguarding it on my way back up to my apartment, I could try this new Chase Deposit that Chase brags about all the time, as if they’ve gone libertarian or something.

With an Android, or an iPhone or iPad, any Chase user gets to use their app to take a picture of checks and deposit the checks, all without ever having to go down to a branch. I’m lucky I fixed a friend’s android phone that he let me keep, because, now, I get to have the opportunity to conform to the stereotype that blind people who are atheists don’t go outside at all.

Ironically, the app is very hard to see visually. There’s white background splattered with a few light grey letters. The only thing that’s high contrast is the menu, which can be accessed by tapping the Chase logo in the top left corner.

When I enter deposit check, it asks me if I really want to sign up for this depositing option and do I really want to continue. I feel like it’s asking for my hand in marriage. I jab yes, like an eager toddler, and squint at the resulting screen. It’s a screen where I have to enter the amount for the check. I feel like it’s my husband or my mother.

When the amount is entered, I see two squares beneath the edit box where my amount rests. They are side by side, and, for some reason, Talkback isn’t reading the words just above the two squares. The print resembles a thousand ants crawling across my android screen. I feel a bit foolish because all of the seasoned android users have homed into my lack of android usage and are laughing quietly because I don’t know about magnification on the android. I tap on the first square and my unshaven chin springs into a tiny rectangle. I am to take a picture of the front of the check and the back of the check. With CP this will be all sorts of fun.

I write on the back of the check and then take a picture, flip it over, and snap another shot. The first time that the message pops up that says the image isn’t clear, I suspect it’s the contrast between my white sink and my white check. I have so many white pieces of furniture in my room I question my diversity tolerance. The only thing that’s colored are my clothes and my bed sheets. I’m glad Chase understands the value of diversity when taking pictures. I’m certain Chase embraces diversity because the application insists that I get away from the glaringly white furniture and I’d better find some place darker to take the picture or else.

The sun, unfortunately, is beaming into my apartment and closing the blinds doesn’t help. I repeat the picture taking process again and again, reminded of my diversity habits every time I fail to switch to a darker surface. I wonder if this is how Santa feels when people say they don’t have Santa in other countries.

With each failed attempt I feel like I am preparing to sign divorce papers.

I refuse to give up though. I get creative with my carpet in my apartment after the blinds have been shut. I’m kneeling on the floor, finally finding enough diversity to balance the overpoweringly white regime of counter tops, and try the pictures again. I can see the name on the checks, the amounts on the checks, my signature, and my note that the bottom that swears I’m not a racist because I have a colored TV

I stare at my cell that says it has been an hour. I’m sure there’s some award for perseverance when depositing checks. I’m certain nobody is as doggedly determined as I am when it comes to refusing to take a cab to my local Chase branch.

I spread out on the floor and snap the picture, eagerly awaiting the outcome. It still says the same thing, that I need to find a dark surface to take the picture on. I don’t know how to illustrate my open mindedness, so I look at the two squares again, and strain to read the tiny grey font on the glaringly white background. It is astonishing. Not only am I slightly prejudice towards furniture, I am also illiterate as well.

Above the left square it says, front of check, and on the right side, in the second square, it says, back of check.

I should be ashamed that I have been doing this entire process in reverse this entire time, trying to fit a front shot into the back option. I never cease to amaze myself.

Still choosing to embrace my diverse pride in my carpet, I use it again to attempt the photos. In an unexpected occurrence, they go through after I snap the pictures.

After about five more confirmations the check finally goes through. An hour later, an Email flies into my inbox, glowing in bold letters complete with a smiley face at the end.

Congratulations Robert Kingett,

After repeated attempts, you have successfully submitted your check for deposit. Please note that, as we question your suggestive choice in furniture, this transaction may take an hour or more to complete. If there are any problems, such as we hit a wrong key because we’re busy cracking jokes at your American spirit, we will definitely contact you for updates.

An hour later, the check has deposited successfully. The piece of paper rests on my desk, partly because I haven’t had the nerve to throw away my one and only prize. This check signifies my willingness to be open minded and free from oppressive thinking and beliefs. I don’t want to throw this away just yet.

Now, when a minority says that I don’t have an ounce of diverse acceptance in my body, I have the perfect proof. I will hold up the check, along with a perfect photo of the paper nestled on a dark surface to show my understanding of involvement. I will even use this image at customs, if, and when, I travel to Africa. The guards will sit me down in a chair and demand proof that I am who I say I am. I will whip out the high definition photos, and proudly exclaim,

“this is who I am, an open minded, gay American!” just for added closure, I will produce an image of my colored TV, showing them what it means to truly be inclusive.