The Sleazy Underworld of Big Banking
My Citibank debit card didn't work. I lost all of my working credit cards a couple of weeks ago along with my Club Card in a Safeway parking lot. I've been living off some money a good friend has loaned me and I've been giving Franz' home phone number to get special deals on eggs and milk.
"You have an account in Chicago?" asked the teller.
"Maybe," I said and tried to think of a reason why I would have an account in Chicago. "The account was made online."
"That explains it. Those accounts only exist in some kind of ethereal neverland."
My account was as good as a bedtime story.
"I suggest you close that account and open an account here with us -- somewhere you can actually get help when you need it."
I believed him, but I was wary. Do I really want to open any new accounts with an organization that creates unservicable accounts in an ethereal neverland?
"I really need to deposit this $300 check today," I said. "Can I come back Monday to make a new account?"
He sprinkled some pixie dust and deposited the money into the neverland account. He gave me his card -- Jason -- and said he'd see me on Monday.
I never went back on Monday.
Today is Friday.
All week, I've been getting phone calls from an "859" are code. They call everyday around 10 AM and don't leave a voice mail. I googled "859" and it's somewhere in Kentucky.
Then, it happens again. The phone rings today while on the way to taking JPo to work. It's the "859" number again. On schedule.
Pause. Click.
It's a fucking auto dialer.
"Hello," says a sing-songy Indian voice on the other end.
After traveling in Northern India for a couple of months and dodging scam after scam, a voice such as this immediately puts me on the defensive.
He wants check numbers. Three payments of forty dollars.
"This will put your account in good standing."
and
"Sir, we can handle all this over the phone."
I tell him my account is past due about sixty dollars, but I've made a partial payment yesterday and been charged a late fee. The latest statement shows I don't have to come up with any money until September 20th.
He says he knows the last four digits of my social security number and the last transaction on my account.
"Anyone who has stolen my statement would have that," I say. "What's my mother's maiden name?" I ask.
"Sorry, I do not have that information. Would you like to speak with my supervisor?"
I tell him no and accuse him of trying to scam me all the way from Bangalore.
I'm pissed. And I'm becoming racist.
I get home and I check my email. There's an email from Citibank:
Date: Fri, 27 Aug 2004 20:27:31 +0400
From: "CITI"Add to Address Book
To: christian_avery_2000@yahoo.com
Subject: CitiBank Reminder: PIease Update Your Data [Fri, 27 Aug 2004 09:22:31 -0700]
There's a link. You click the link and it opens a new window. It wants you to give them your account numbers, PINs, social security numbers, mother's maiden name, etc.
What's spookier: you can't close the box.
Even nuttier -- look what happens if you try to cut and paste the letter -- you get this message:
HotBot here you are Pearl Harbor Virus in 1843 I'm with you Fancy that! I wonder what if... Buffy the Vampire Slayer Applet in 1890 in 1833 in 1819 Lockerbie blame in 1920 Verizon Strike I can't Ok deal Is it serious? in 1979 The X-Men Casinos Disney Blink 182 in 1924
The real Citibank site warns against emails like these. They say even if you open a link, like I did, you risk getting keystroke spyware placed into your hard drive that'll try to send passwords to a remote user.
I'm pretty sure that happened.
My Citibank credit card is now closed by my request. My checking account will be closed after next month. They are too big of a target for frauds. I'm sticking with my little credit union in Portland, Oregon. My account with them is overdrawn and they're still paying my automatic payments without charging fees. Even better, their Visa credit card comes in purple.
My Citibank debit card didn't work. I lost all of my working credit cards a couple of weeks ago along with my Club Card in a Safeway parking lot. I've been living off some money a good friend has loaned me and I've been giving Franz' home phone number to get special deals on eggs and milk.
"You have an account in Chicago?" asked the teller.
"Maybe," I said and tried to think of a reason why I would have an account in Chicago. "The account was made online."
"That explains it. Those accounts only exist in some kind of ethereal neverland."
My account was as good as a bedtime story.
"I suggest you close that account and open an account here with us -- somewhere you can actually get help when you need it."
I believed him, but I was wary. Do I really want to open any new accounts with an organization that creates unservicable accounts in an ethereal neverland?
"I really need to deposit this $300 check today," I said. "Can I come back Monday to make a new account?"
He sprinkled some pixie dust and deposited the money into the neverland account. He gave me his card -- Jason -- and said he'd see me on Monday.
I never went back on Monday.
Today is Friday.
All week, I've been getting phone calls from an "859" are code. They call everyday around 10 AM and don't leave a voice mail. I googled "859" and it's somewhere in Kentucky.
Then, it happens again. The phone rings today while on the way to taking JPo to work. It's the "859" number again. On schedule.
Pause. Click.
It's a fucking auto dialer.
"Hello," says a sing-songy Indian voice on the other end.
After traveling in Northern India for a couple of months and dodging scam after scam, a voice such as this immediately puts me on the defensive.
He wants check numbers. Three payments of forty dollars.
"This will put your account in good standing."
and
"Sir, we can handle all this over the phone."
I tell him my account is past due about sixty dollars, but I've made a partial payment yesterday and been charged a late fee. The latest statement shows I don't have to come up with any money until September 20th.
He says he knows the last four digits of my social security number and the last transaction on my account.
"Anyone who has stolen my statement would have that," I say. "What's my mother's maiden name?" I ask.
"Sorry, I do not have that information. Would you like to speak with my supervisor?"
I tell him no and accuse him of trying to scam me all the way from Bangalore.
I'm pissed. And I'm becoming racist.
I get home and I check my email. There's an email from Citibank:
Date: Fri, 27 Aug 2004 20:27:31 +0400
From: "CITI"
To: christian_avery_2000@yahoo.com
Subject: CitiBank Reminder: PIease Update Your Data [Fri, 27 Aug 2004 09:22:31 -0700]
There's a link. You click the link and it opens a new window. It wants you to give them your account numbers, PINs, social security numbers, mother's maiden name, etc.
What's spookier: you can't close the box.
Even nuttier -- look what happens if you try to cut and paste the letter -- you get this message:
HotBot here you are Pearl Harbor Virus in 1843 I'm with you Fancy that! I wonder what if... Buffy the Vampire Slayer Applet in 1890 in 1833 in 1819 Lockerbie blame in 1920 Verizon Strike I can't Ok deal Is it serious? in 1979 The X-Men Casinos Disney Blink 182 in 1924
The real Citibank site warns against emails like these. They say even if you open a link, like I did, you risk getting keystroke spyware placed into your hard drive that'll try to send passwords to a remote user.
I'm pretty sure that happened.
My Citibank credit card is now closed by my request. My checking account will be closed after next month. They are too big of a target for frauds. I'm sticking with my little credit union in Portland, Oregon. My account with them is overdrawn and they're still paying my automatic payments without charging fees. Even better, their Visa credit card comes in purple.
posted by c. @ 3:12 PM
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