Prison bankers cash in on captive customersCharging a 35% fee to a loved one sending hard-earned cash to someone in prison is reprehensible. But that type of sleazy activity is just business as usual for the world's biggest pack of parasitic predators, the Jew.
To get cash to her son, Pat used to purchase a money order at the post office for $1.25 and mail it to the prison, for a total cost of less than $2. But in March of last year, the Virginia Department of Corrections informed her that JPay Inc., a private company in Florida, would begin handling all deposits into inmates’ accounts.
Sending a money order through JPay takes too long, so Taylor started using her debit card to get him funds instead. To send Eddie $50, Taylor must pay $6.95 to JPay. Depending on how much she can afford to send, the fee can be as high as 35 percent. In other states, JPay’s fees approach 45 percent.
The Jew SHARPIRO says his company, JPAY, is operating on a razor-thin margin, but lying is another of the Jew's crafty ways of duping the GOYIM:
But others provide similar services for less.
NIC Inc., a competitor that helps states set up their websites, charges a flat fee of $2.40 in Maine to send money to inmates. Until recently, Arkansas charged 5 percent to send money through the state’s own Web portal. Floridians pay a fee of 3.5 percent to handle traffic tickets online.
The Jew SHARPIRO knows how to corrupt the GOYIM to do his bidding, which in turn is an expense written off JPAY's taxes:
Tequila, cigars and lobbyingGrief, misery, despair might be frightening to us GOYIM, but to the Jew, it's a time to celebrate and make some shekels.
To impress state corrections officials and gain their business, JPay spends heavily on industry conventions attended by agency heads with contracting authority. During a 2012 convention of the American Correctional Association, the company threw what it called an “END OF THE WORLD PARTY” at a Denver wine bar that bills itself as “about you, and your inalienable right to the unbridled enjoyment of food and wine.”
The invitation, printed on a disposable beer coaster, promised “a bash, JPay-style: *fuerte* tequila, hand-rolled cigars, a live mariachi band.” Conventioneers could catch a JPay shuttle leaving from the hotel “ALL NIGHT LONG,” it said.