I always wear that ring on my right hand, why do you ask?

Upon receiving this month's credit card statement, I noticed a delicious little surprise in the top right corner. My credit limit has been not just extended, but doubled. Why, thank you MasterCard, you shouldn't have.... oh MasterCard, (insert delighted shriek of laughter here) you know just how I like it. But it's not all good news, for alas, I have a moral dilemma.
When my credit is extended, I get this feeling like I'm at some woman's house, I don't know who, just a woman who's house I'm not supposed to be at. Some sort of indescribably sexy temptress that my mother, or my wife, or both, have warned me to stay away from. Nevertheless, I am there, in the doorway, about to try and leave.
What's that sexy temptress? oh...yeah, I suppose I could stay for a drink, what's the harm in that? What's that? Oh no, I'm comfortable in what I'm wearing thank you.
I put on a cool front, but I'm terribly nervous, because I know that it is not possible for any good to come of this.
What's that you say MasterCard? I can leave even further beyond my means? I suppose I can buy one more pair of shoes, what's the harm in that?