IOWA CITY, Iowa (U-WIRE) - Everybody loves college freshmen. From the downtown bars seeking extra patronage to the cops who wait for unsuspecting patrons to stagger out of them, many are stirred by the annual influx of 18-year-olds onto the campus scene.

Nobody, however, appreciates new college entrants quite like Visa and MasterCard. While businesses such as the Fieldhouse Restaurant & Bar certainly make their share of capital from the barely adult crowd, credit-card companies make an absolute killing, based on a tried-and-true process that guarantees the credit-card magnates fat paychecks after every fall.

This empire grasps its collegiate consumers innocently enough - from the innocuous fliers that are slipped into every student's bag to the casual booths on campus that offer free T-shirts. But beyond the cheaply made shirts, free water bottles and 3.9 percent interest rates lies something very sinister.

Students who encounter credit-card advertisements upon their arrival on campus fall into a well-calculated plan to lure them into the murky world of deficit spending. It is certifiable, meanwhile, that most students aren't blessed with an incredible amount of spending cash. This is where credit cards come into play. Good business strategy, one would guess, does not include lending credit to those who consider Ramen noodles a delicacy. But business sense becomes skewed in the twisted vortex of the college world. In this realm, passing out credit cards to those who can't really pay for them is perfect because they can't pay for them.

Asking cardholders to pay $15 each month while charging an interest rate near 20 percent is little more than a corporate stick-up. Those who would believe that they can take advantage of a credit-card company's rate near 20 percent is little more than a corporate stick-up. Those who would believe that they can take advantage of a credit-card company's outward generosity should realize they are being scammed.

I've been there, as have many others. Studies reveal about three-quarters of college students own credit cards. The Salt Lake Tribune recently reported the average credit-card debt among people in their 20s sits above $2,000. Most, like myself, might have gotten their start at a booth somewhere on campus, lured by the promise of enticing gifts in addition to a credit card with their name on it.

I signed up mainly for the goodies, but the T-shirt I took home ended up costing more than $600. A card came in the mail, and I set it aside for use in fiscal emergencies. Such as when one's car breaks down on the freeway or upon seeing that REO Speedwagon box set that one can't live another day without.

I got my start buying toothpaste and other such dazzling items, but gradually slipped into a spending tailspin that was well documented in my bills over the next couple months. Not long after I recovered from the impact, my MasterCard fell victim to an unfortunate "accident" with a pair of scissors.

A sad loss, to be sure, but not nearly as tragic as the loss of money I noticed. It has been more than two years since my credit-card phase, but interest rates and "finance charges" continue to dog me. After paying hundreds of dollars to the company over the past two years, my balance still lingers ominously in the triple digits - almost exactly what it was in the first place. The mathematics of it all still confounds me.

Anyhow, experience prevents me from encouraging too many people to acquire plastic of their own. Granted, there are many who either have a greater amount of financial responsibility than poor saps like myself or have their parents footing the bills. In such cases, go ahead and charge it up.

Be forewarned, however, the world of credit cards is a dark and seedy place - one that I don't hope to go back to anytime soon.

At least not until I pay what I owe from the last trip.