I recently got the telephone call that every adult dreads. No, not the one from the auto shop estimator when you have already given them a ridiculously high pre-authorized repair limit. Not the ominous message from the doctor’s office with lab test results. Not an alert from a business security company to let you know that your office building alarm has been triggered.
It was a call from a bank representative about a suspicious charge on my credit card for $39.95 to a company I was not familiar with.
The customer service agent from the security department asked if the transaction was legitimate. To be honest, I did not know. I did not recognize the company name, but my husband and I both share the card, so it was possible that he had made the charge. I asked her to stay on the line; I was in my car and just pulling into the driveway.
I hurried inside and asked Don if he had charged to that company. He didn’t think so, but he hesitated. Like me, he is sometimes surprised at how transactions show up on our credit card. Charges at one of our local gas stations, for example, come through with a name that is unrelated to a gasoline company.
I jumped on the website for the business, and at first it seemed reputable. The business branded itself as an “elite customer care organization,” that would give you access to a “24/7 team of experts.” But I could not tell from the website what the company did, and its list of services shed no light. When I read that it had “a system of efficiency that rivals any organization on earth,” without explaining what the system was, who it was designed for, and what problems it could solve, I was suspicious. I clicked on the link for an on-line chat, and despite billing itself as having 24/7 support, it said, “sorry, we are closed right now.” I knew then that our card had been hacked.
The banker asked if I wanted the charge declined. I asked if the debit could be rejected without cancelling our card. The answer was no. The agent patiently listened to me complain that cancelling the card would force me to notify vendors who automatically charge to our credit card. Pest control, DISH network, WSDOT Good to Go, Audible subscription – the list was not interminable, but it was not going to be fun, either. The caller listened to me whine for a bit, and then assured me, with practiced professionalism, that our new cards would arrive within three business days.
And they did.
For next couple of days, I approached the creditor list industriously. I reviewed our card statements, made a list of businesses that had authority to bill automatically, and started the process of alerting them that our card was cancelled and giving them the new card number. The first five were easy - those that had telephone numbers for customer service. And changing my payment method with Amazon for my Prime subscription was simple through my on-line portal.
Then I ran out of steam and slacked off. The three remaining vendors seemed less important. For example, we would not need snowplowing at our vacation home for several months, so there was no rush to contact them. Our annual AAA membership had just renewed, so I had almost a year to reach out to them.
The next night, I got a mysterious, quickly disappearing message on my phone that my Apple.com iPhone backup cloud storage payment had been declined. I spent the next 35 minutes trying to change the method of payment on my Apple profile. I found the password, but could not find my “Apple ID.” (It turns out that an Apple ID is what other businesses term a Username.) But after flailing around on my Apple portal for a while, I was able to update my new card number.
For the next few days, I kept checking my credit card account to confirm that iCloud payments were, once again, being charged. But they never showed up. I worried that my account would be closed as it was now in default. I logged back into my account on Friday night to see if I could figure out what was wrong, and in a fit of dogged persistence, I called Apple Support to ensure that all was well.
I had no idea what I was in for.
I spoke with the help desk for over an hour, as they could not determine why my credit card was not being charged, as “Apple should have charged you if your new card is in place.” The support rep and I flitted around between my Apple profile, the settings on my iPhone, and accessing Apple through a web browser. We screen-shared, uttered consoling phrases and encouragements to each other, and complimented each other for our mutual patience. Eventually, the technology gods favored both of us: my new account payment method was confirmed, and the Apple support person was able to move on to another customer. I do not know which one of us was more relieved.
At 5:45 yesterday morning, I logged into my credit card account. Lo and behold, an Apple debit transaction for $2.99 appeared.
Somewhere, somehow, in an earlier life, I must have done something good.