Last Saturday morning I realized shortly before heading down to the airport that I couldn’t find my wallet. I was running late, and could only do a brief search. As a precaution I locked out my credit card account, and on Sunday I tossed the house looking for the wallet, even going back to the last store at which I remembered having used. The clerk at the store was sympathetic, but no – he hadn’t seen a thing.
I’ve been the victim of identity theft before, and know the drill. It would all be an enormous hassle of course: Replacement bank cards and credit cards were easy enough to come by given a day or two, but between military, government and state IDs and licenses, I’d be in the belly of the bureaucratic beast for the better part of the week getting things untangled. Went the extra mile and put a lock on anyone trying to open up new accounts in my name by visiting Experian.
Hot all weekend (Santa Ana’s) but cool and clear on Monday. It was with mixed relief and exasperation that I put my jacket on for work only to discover that the wallet had somehow slipped down my sleeve – the one place I hadn’t looked for it. Who puts a wallet down his sleeve?
Quick calls the credit card company: Was there time to call the whole thing off? No, sorry. The new card with a new account number was on the way. Ah, well. Out eight bucks for the expedited shipping, but at least I could bypass the DMV.
Today: Got an email from eBay in my new iPhone (a Christmas present from the Hobbit) saying that there was a question on one of my items. Cheerfully logged in, went nowhere in particular and signed back out again. Only to realize that I’d been phished. It had been very artfully executed – no spelling errors, a professional appearance. Meh.
I’m usually more clever about such things – any time I get an email with embedded links from any entity with which I have a remotely financial interest, I always run my cursor over the link to verify that it’s what it pretends to be. But I’ve been having a discussion over a bit of kit I sold recently, and there was my new iPhone helping me along, and, well: There’s one born every minute.
In a lather I logged into my account from my desktop trying to assess the damages, got to my credit card account and saw that it still reflected the old card number. I hadn’t gotten around to changing it. Changed password and secret question, and have lost nothing but my dignity.
It’s better to be lucky than good.
Another weekend lost in the grasp of the God of Inanimate Objects.
Lex, just another reason for living in a small town in the real Virginia. Merchants frequently comment about my credit card being cold during the winter. I don’t dare tell them that it has been sitting in an unlocked car overnight. Things are like that here. I only lock the car when I go to “Wally World”. Life is great here in the southern Shenandoha. Stonewall and Bobby Lee are close by. Honor is still important.
Lex … in January of 2007, our bank called us and asked us to come in to check something out. They had flagged an incoming check drawn on our main household account because it looked “fishy.” It was. It was a check paid out to Victoria’s Secret for $1500 and ostensibly signed by husband, who was 83 at the time, and doesn’t date anyone but me. And he doesn’t buy me Victoria’s Secret underwear, because Victoria’s secret is that their underwear doesn’t fit anyone over 30.
Fortunately the bank was smart enough to notice that the check pattern was different from ours, as was the signature, slightly. Still, it took us about six months to solve all the problems connected with this. And we were barraged for months with bill collector phone calls, because the bank had refused to pay out the $1500 to an indignant Victoria’s Secret.
You were very smart to act immediately as you did. And I certainly hope this never happens to you for real. Or to any of the other courteous and kindly commenters on your blog, Because it’s a major pain to resolve.
Marianne
A special place in Hell awaits those…..but don’t you wish Old West justice was still around to expedite their way? Oh, well, just waxing sentimental wishful thinking.
Marianne,
You’re not kidding about the Victoria’s Secret stuff not fitting.
I can’t wear it anymore at all.
Cheers
Nose in Cool Minneapolis
Nose-that’s a bad visual but yes I was wondering how anyone could spend that kind of money on…so little. I guess it’s an investment.
Marianne, glad it finally worked out. What a conversation starter. (Why yes-we spend quite a bit a Victoria’s secret…)
Actually, it’s a hilarious visual.
Having met Nose in person (fully-clothed, of course), I can put together enough of a visual that I’m having trouble stopping the snickering…
Piling crime upon crime our host has “driven without a license” and “flown without a license”.
I am shocked!
Been there, done that. When I was younger (ensign) I misplaced the car. A lot. It was only when I got older that I mislaid my wallet.
Try losing your wallet in Afghanistan.
I’ve had my identity stolen – twice. Pain in the ass. Also had my ATM card duplicated right down to the special super secret code – it was a “skimmer”, a special chip put into those scanners at checkouts in large stores like Target – takes an image of the magnetic strip and records the keys pressed for the code. Thief stole my paycheck, annual bonus from work and my Christmas money. It was quite alot of money – that the bastard got in cash thru ATM withdrawals.
Did my bank ever try to contact me to ask about multiple withdrawals over 5 days that started in Delaware and ended in CT? No they did not. Not once did they try to stop the highly unusual pattern of withdrawals.
They were a bear to deal with to get the money restored too – treated me like I was the criminal. Tried to make me provide affidavits on my location during the days the money was withdrawn. Since I was working in MA at the time, it was quite easy to prove where I was, since I was working at the time of the withdrawals!
As soon as the money was restored, I pulled my 20+ years worth of business from them and told them why.
Word of advice to all: if you use your Debit card to pay for something, NEVER put in your ATM code. Use it as CREDIT only.
Kris … my deepest sympathies about your identity theft. As the child of a banker, I have always felt that debit cards are an invention of the devil — or at least the invention of a banking system which doesn’t want to do to the trouble of keeping convenient banking hours for its customers. I’m also anti-ATMs, preferring to cash bigger checks during daylight hours in the bank’s lobby, and keeping a home stash of extra emergency cash in a clever hiding place among our thousands of books. Burglars seldom read much, is my reasoning on it.
But then, like most old folks, I’m eccentric. Cynical too. If someone wants me to do something their way, I always wonder “What’s in it for them?”
Marianne
Marianne – maybe it’s an age thing. I’ve never used an ATM, never used a debit card as anything other than ‘credit’. If I have a PIN, I’ve never known it, and am not looking to find out. I’m cynical enough to think that if banks are doing something for “my convenience”, most of the time they’re making money off of it.
Marianne & Miss B: you guys are funny and right. Completely right.
That looks more like divine intervention then luck.
I find myself in a classroom with newly commissioned officers on a regular basis. I get to talk about financial MGT and such like. I enjoy the use of the word “predatory” when discussing credit cards and interest rates. I tell them “… no one in the financial world is doing you a favor. They want your money, the use of your money or the interest they can charge you if you use their money. Pure and simple.”
Lost my wallet on a military transport once. Weeks later a maintenance chief showed up in my doorway with the wallet. It cost me a case of booze to get my leather-wrapped wad of newly cancelled credit cards back. Like you, the trip to DOT hadn’t happened yet. Embarrassing!
I had my wallet stolen once. Fell out of my pants in the bathroom while they were at half-mast and I was reading in graduate school. Someone found it and apparently gave out the plastic contents. I called it in.
Someone used the credit cards and eventually got grabbed up by the store security guards. Numerous charges for lingerie, perfume, and other such articles that were consumables for the young ladies in his … employ. Or is the correct description of his status that of an agent for independent contractors? Sure, that’s probably how he structured his occupation for tax purposes.
I was called and asked if I’d testify, as the spendthrift was claiming that I’d given him my credit card. “Sure!” I said and hied myself off to 26th and California. I spent an educational couple of hours there listening to the screaming from the holding cell behind the bench and the rather fantastic stories in front of it while various miscreants were brought forth. The subject of my interest was duly brought forth. His counsel took one look at me and asked for a continuance, which was granted. I was whisked off by a Chicago cop (perhaps too delicate a word for the process) and brought to a side room. There two cops and an assistant D.A. introduced themselves and started telling me that there would be another appearance and how important it would be for me to show up at the next hearing, because if I didn’t the case would be dismissed.
Countenances brightened considerably when I said “Hell, I’m a grad student in Biochemistry a couple of miles from here with my own car. I can get out anytime you want. I wouldn’t miss this for the world!”
It turned out that I, a grungy grad student with hair down to my shoulders, was now considered by the Chicago Police a pillar of society and the salt of the earth. The D.A. then said “Now, we can’t tell you anything about his background that’s all here in this folder. That would be predjudicial. So don’t look in it.” Then one of the cops said “Hey, we’ve got a problem out here and we need you [meaning the D.A.] out here too!” Off they run, leaving the folder out on the bench and me completely unsupervised.
I know a cue when I hear one. A perusal of the paperwork revealed that apparently “profiting from the proceeds of prostitution” is the legal description of a pimp, and such a person also might well be engaged in breaking and entering and battery. This had the desired effect, so the next time I was in court with plenty of time to spare. Once again the offender was hauled in. Once again I got the fishy eye from his counsel. Mention was apparently made of my student status, and just as I was headed up to give my story a deal was struck. Justice at it’s finest. I was once again thanked profusely and strolled out of the building proud to have struck a blow for civic order and the right to take a dump without having to grope for your wallet.
Heh,
What I find interesting is the almost mandatory need for a credit card these days. I don;t have one. I haven’t had one for almost 20 years. I paid off what I owed on the cards that I had, and went to a cash-only life. It’s been wonderful for the most part. I can pay most bills online, and those that I can’t I can either pay in person or with a money order. The cost(s) of the money order(s) are less than the credit card company would charge me in interest, including postage.
What kills me, though, is that I now find that places are starting to demand a credit card in order to use their services. Car rentals, airlines, hotels, etc. Now, I have a PayPal account and can use that for somethings, but geezum… why the reliance on Credit Cards? Why should I have to pay a third party for the right to use another party’s services?
Anyway, I broke down and applied for a credit card… and got turned down. Seems I don’t have any credit history. I apparently do not have any BAD credit, I just don’t have ANY credit because I haven’t owed anybody anything for lo these many years. I find myself in a position, at this stage of my life, of having to prove my worth to some slack-jawed cheeto-eating numbers puke in a faraway place just to have the privilege of making a reservation at a hotel.
In fact, one major hotel chain wouldn’t even let me check in without a credit card. I don’t get it. I’ve paid my bills, done the right thing, but apparently I haven’t been living above my means enough to qualify as “credit-worthy”.
Ah well. Seems like I’ll be staying at the local KOA next time, because I am NOT going to play that credit-card game anymore.
AW1 Tim-
Next time, just stroll in there with a thick wad of cash. Then when they refuse service, just plunk it down on the counter in front of them and ask them if it will do.
I found out that I had my identity stolen by a crime ring in SoCal when I applied to refinance my mortgage by my current mortgage carrier. They claimed I could not refinance because I was living in Long Beach CA and I was in collection.
I pointed out to them that they just called me in NY and that the home I own (and that they had a mortgage on) is in NY. This seemed to make no difference to them…
It took me two years to clear up this matter. As it turns out, an insider at Pac Bell was selling infor (we used to live in Ca) to a ring then selling the info in CA prisoners!
We missed out on a refi at historic levels at the time but finally cleared the mess up. No sooner did I breath a sigh of relief than I got my recent credit card statement. It seems that someone charged EuroRail tickets to my credit card!