“Talk with ladies who want to meet you!” Three hundred eleven dollars and ninety-five cents. That’s a long number.
Admittedly, I was wasting time. I was supposed to be editing a short story that I’ve been working on for far too long. The deadline is Monday, but I’m brain-dead. Seven hundred forty-nine words, not a lot of room for maneuvering my prose. So, why not check the bank account? Look up recipes, check my email and text messages? Oh, and in the vein of a studious writer, why not look at that class on technical writing that I’ve been considering?
I lined up five tabs at the top of Safari. When I clicked on the third, my heart lurched. I felt fear tremble in my fingers on the keys and my stomach twisted like the stripes up a candy cane. A debit of over $300 – today – by some obscure merchant – Jpay?
The bank verified that a charge had been made today at 3:57 p.m. I wasn’t home and my debit card wasn’t with me, and yes the transaction was made on my card. Was someone in my house? Who had my card? Why did this happen to me? My fear was assuaged when USAA, wonderful banking institution that they are, validated my no-fault fraudulent charge protection, canceled my violated card and issued me a new one to arrive in a few business days. OK, so at least I know I’ll get my money back and whoever this creep is, he’s not going to get anything else from me.
“Would you like the phone number associated with this charge? Just for you own curiosity?” definitely.
So, I dialed the infamous phone number. An all to excited voice issued a tempting invitation, “Talk with ladies who want to meet you!” My fear became a feeling of having been violated became a raging anger. What pervert stole my card number and then used it to call a $300/hour sex line? The audacity!
The worst part is, I know exactly the last time my card was exposed. I don’t carry the debit card because we spend on a cash allowance system. That eliminates impulse spending. So, some jerk, while I don’t even allow myself the freedom to carry my debit card and make whimsical purchases, takes the liberty to “borrow” my card for a disgusting hobby.