The Great Amalah Caper
September 10, 2004
So I remember what I was planning to write about yesterday, instead of writing that horrific train wreck of an entry that I posted instead.
And I cannot BELIEVE I forgot about it. This is something that happened LAST Friday, and I'm horrified that I did not rush right on over to TypePad.com to spew righteous indignation all over the place. Suspicions that I am a total comment whore when it comes to sappy, lovey-type posts have been confirmed.
Y'all, someone in Pensacola, Florida used my credit card to spend $1,900 at an Office Depot last week.
Nine. Teen. Hun. Dred. Doll. Ars.
On MY credit card. MINE, ME, THE ONE THAT IS IN MY WALLET.
Did I mention that this transaction took place in Florida? Last week? When I was not in Florida, not even in the general vicinity?
Did I mention that they spent nineteen hundred motherfucking dollars?
So. What did I DO when I saw this transaction on my lovely little online statement, since I waited an entire week to throw an online tantrum about it? (And oh, Jason totally found it first, because I never check my lovely little online statement, because I? Am a CHILD.)
Well, the first thing I did was what any level-headed person would do. I sent an email to everyone in the Judith Light Brigade. An email that went something like, "OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SOME JACKASS MOTHERFUCKER STOLE MY CREDIT CARD NUMBER AND SPENT NINETEEN HUNDRED MOTHERFUCKING DOLLARS AT OFFICE DEPOT IN FLORIDA WHERE I WAS NOT AND OH MY GOD."
After that, I calmly checked my wallet to make sure that my credit card was indeed, still there. And it was. As was Jason's. (In his wallet, not mine, because that would be weird, like I give him an allowance or something, even though he makes approximately a bazillion dollars more than me.)
(A bazillion is probably an exaggeration, but like I said, I don't really know much about the whole "money" thing, except for what I keep in my piggy bank until I save up enough to buy a My Little Pony.)
Anyway. Both cards in our posession. Check. Both of us not in or near Florida. Check.
So I called Capital One, praying to the Lord in heaven that they were just as good about the fraud protection as they claim to be in their super-annoying commercials.
Phone: Ring ring.
Amy: Oh my god, please, not ringing nearly fast enough.
Phone: Welcome to Capital One, please enter your card number and don't fuck it up or else we will promptly hang up on you!
Amy: Ok, 5, 4, 9, oh wait, shit.
Phone: Invalid! Goodbye.
Phone: Ring ring, etc. Welcome STORCH, AMY. Please stay quiet while our friendly computer tells you your balance, your remaining credit (hint: zero!), and also your payment history back to that one time you sent your payment in seven hours late.
Amy: HAAAAAAAAATE YOOOOOOOOU.
Phone: If you would like to make a payment, press one. If you would like to send us more money just for the hell of it, press two. If you would like to report fraud, you dirty lying liar, press three.
Phone: Hello, this is the Department o' Fraud and Bad Things, how may I help you?
Phone: Oh yes, I see that. Dayum. That sucks ass. Please hold.
Phone: easy soft jazz soothing tunes of blandness
Amy: wah. WAH!
Phone: Okay, I'm back, but I'm not someone who can help you. Please hold.
Phone: elevator music of easy peace love blah
Phone: Hello, Ms. Storch, if that IS your real name.
Amy: Hi, please be nice because I am freaking out muchly.
Phone: So, here's the thing: our system shows that your card was present at the time of this transaction and it wasn't online and that it was in the store. LIKE YOUR CARD WAS.
Phone: Do you have your card?
Amy: incoherant blathering but basically, yes, we both have our cards so that is NOT possible
Phone: Perhaps Office Depot always has their credit card payments processed in Pensacola, because that is SO LIKELY.
Amy: I haven't BEEN to an Office Depot. Anywhere.
Phone: Suuuure. You didn't buy a computer or something that has totally slipped your mind until now?
Amy: NO NO NO FOR THE LOVE OF BACON
Phone: Okay FINE. I will turn this over to our Fraud Department of Invesigations and Maybe Payback and Broken Kneecaps. Cut up your card into wee pieces and I will send you a new one, eventually.
Amy: Also? The $1,900?
Phone: Poof. Gone. Don't worry about it. But um, you know, pay the rest of your bill please, because DAMN you spend a lot of fucking money at PetSmart.
Amy: *weeping* Thank you.
Phone: Thank you for using Capital One! But you suck for paying off your entire damn bill every month so we can never charge you interest! Freeloading air mileage whore! *click*
So anyway. We don't have to pay the $1,900. We got a form from them that we have to formally fill out and tell our story of confusion and wrongness. I also looked up "Office Depot, store #202" that the transaction happened at and yes, it is indeed in Pensacola, Florida. So no chance of some weirdly routed card processing. It was not us, the card was a fake or possibly an "order online, pick up at the store" transaction gone awry.
No idea who or how or why or what. But Capital One has been pretty nice about it. Except that I'm still waiting for my new card and they better fucking remember that I chose the design with the pretty hammock and beach scene and not send some other boring design, like with a globe or something.
The end! Maybe. I hope. Please be the end!