This Was the Species that Was

Two charges, each in the amount of $44.78, from some online-sounding company in the Netherlands posted to my credit card account, dated 22 July. I discovered these yesterday when I was unable to use my credit card to add money to my Metro SmarTrip card and went online to investigate why. Always suspicious of charges I don't recognize, but also suspicious of my memory, I let it ride for a day. Then this morning three more transactions, each for $100.00, showed up from some company in Dubai, UAE. Presumably the stinkingly rich men there are not quite stinking or rich enough.

So! Somebody's got a hold of my credit card information, almost certainly online (the card itself has not been out of my possession). Of course I use this card for all kinds of online orders—including a slew of recent Amazon merchant purchases—but this is the first time I've ever had any fraudulent activity on it. So I spoke with an Account Manager at Capital One this morning, which was itself a treat:

—Do you have your card in your possession?
—I'm cutting it into little pieces as we speak. (I was, too.)
—But do you have your card in your possession?
(Eyes rolled toward magnetic north) —YES. That is, in fact, how I am able to cut it into little pieces.

The result is that they've closed my account and will reverse the charges and send it to investigation and send me a new card and advice re the fraud investigation via USPS in 5 to 7 business days.

This is perfectly timed: I had purposely paid a significant chunk of the balance last Friday and was keeping enough available credit on the card to pay for (a) my ticket to the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival and (b) a ride home on Amtrak from Wilmington on Sunday evening when geckospot drops me at the train station. Thanks to an expense I was not expecting this week, I don't have enough cash for EITHER. There's just no way my new card will arrive in the mail by the time I'm supposed to leave for BWI Friday afternoon, so I have two choices: Beg or Bail.

Oooh, maybe I should do an LJ poll... Naah.

Better idea: I'll fly to Albany as planned on Friday and sneak into Festival camping and just not go to any music shows. There's no security in camping, ever, so it doesn't really matter if I'm camping. I'll have the teenfolk dray me food from the concessions, or just be a schnorrer and live out of everybody's coolers. I'll somehow talk Gecko into driving to D.C. ... oh, hell, no I won't. Maybe I can afford a Greyhound ticket. Hey, Greyhound stops in Wilmington once or twice a week maybe. I'll bring along my EZPass doohickey and cover all the tolls on the way home. I'll set up a massage table in the campground and earn a few bucks. I'll... I'll...

"Bail" is sounding real good about now.