Last May, some highfalutin criminal waltzed into a Saks Fifth Avenue Department Store charging 10 thousand dollars in merchandise in my name. When I asked Saks Security why no one questioned a brand new card with such high purchases they casually said, “Why would we, it happens all the time.” Not the answer a hysterical, female fraud victim is quite looking for.
I am what is known as a victim of identity theft. Some charming, upstanding individual stole all my personal information before going on a lavish shopping spree that continues even today.
I only knew about Saks because they sent a letter saying how happy they were I was a customer again having closed my account ten years ago.
This alerted me to what was to come. I almost owned a house in the Catskills, a golf cart along with a fur coat and eight computers.
This is what happens when you have such good credit. Seems your thieves do too.
Even Apple sent a note asking if my address had really changed.
NO NO NO!
Since then, every card I have has been cancelled and reissued. Three of them more than once.
I have to say, American Express is the easiest to deal with. Next comes Discover who keeps apologizing like a reckless roommate.
Apparently, anytime a business has its database compromised, anyone who’s ever shopped there has to be notified…hence, credit cancelled.
It amazes me even with a high alert on all my accounts as well as hiring Lifelocks to watch over them it’s still going on. Whenever I call to say, it’s happened again…why didn’t you catch it? They try to convince me to spend more money to insure even further fruitless assistance.
My latest fraud was on Discover who charged me for a slew of Fandango tickets. The irony combined with insult is due to my ongoing hearing issues since I haven’t been to the movies in over a year. I actually cried on the phone to their Security Department. They felt so sorry, they reiterated their Cash Back Rewards Program with all its bells and whistles.
Thanks, but no thanks.
You have to wonder how the criminals that be, find out your first pet’s name and what grammar school you attended. They even have my mother’s maiden name along with my favorite films, foods and color. I now have to make up new answers to all my security questions that I forget since they’re all lies.
Joe Schmo with those pricy wingtips had no problem, but when I tried to pay for a modest meal, I was told my card was rejected.
“Hello, Bank of America, will you please pay for my fish? Yes, it’s really me.”
As the woman at Discover Customer Service said, “These are the times we live in ma’am.” (On top of this, she calls me by the dreaded M word.)
I guess this is true, but it doesn’t make it any easier to handle at 7:15 in the morning with an avocado mask on your face, one of the few legitimate purchases on my now (that makes three) shredded Discover card.
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