When Banking Goes Bad

On Tuesday, I was reviewing my back account and figuring out how much I could spend on Michael's graduation party. As I went over the recent purchases I'd made, I noticed the usual: groceries and gas. I saw the charges for the birthday shopping trip on which I'd taken Hope on Monday. Then I saw a charge to something called Gamma. There was no address, and my bank provided no information beyond the name of the theoretical company at which I'd purchased some service.

I wracked my brain for a while, pondering where I could have been and what I would have bought that cost only $9.25. I couldn't recall anything I would have bought in the past week that would have cost such a small amount (we typically never spend less than $30 when we grocery shop or hit Target for a "few necessities"). Every time I'd gone out recently, either someone else had paid, or we'd gone to one of my usual places. I paid cash for parking at CWU's graduation. I couldn't recall anything I I would have bought for $9.25, and I certainly didn't remember any Gamma.

I showed the odd line on my bank statement to Michael. He was puzzled as well, but he pointed out that the number next to the Gamma name had the same number of digits as a phone number. We gave the number a call: an answering machine with a man's voice, speaking in a bizarre accent, saying that he was unavailable to come to the phone, but that we should leave a message.

Completely baffled by this point, we Googled the number. What we found was appalling. Apparently I was not the only one who couldn't remember using my debit card to buy something from Gamma. There were dozens of people with similar stories. They too had found a weird charge on their bank statements, for around $9.00, to some company called Gamma from which they couldn't remember buying anything. The same phone number showed up on their statements. When they called, they got the same recorded message.

Some horrid, dishonest person had gotten a hold of our debit card information, and was fishing, making small charges, to see if we would notice missing money before making a bigger charge!

Michael and I immediately headed to the bank, where I closed that account and opened an entirely new one. I didn't bother to try to get my $9.25 back (it would have taken an hour's worth of paperwork), and there's no real way to pursue tracking down the ass hole who stole my debit card number, since he didn't steal enough to make it worth filing a police report.

I just spent the morning transferring all of the bills I pay through automatic payments over to the new account. What a complete pain in the butt!

I hope the jerk who stole my debit card number gets run over by a bus. Twice. Then dropped out of the medical helicopter that's attempting to save him, and falls 3,000 feet and is entirely squashed into an unrecognizable pulp. I work really hard for my paycheck, and I truly resent anyone stealing from me.

Everyone else out there reading my tale of woe, let this be a lesson to you: pay close attention to your bank accounts. I could have been out a lot more than $9.25. I was lucky. There are a lot of dishonest weirdos out there. Watch especially for charges from Gamma.