While I was on vacation, I checked my answering machine and found a message from my credit card company asking me to call their Fraud Detection department because they had detected unusual usage patterns on my card. Unlike last year, when someone appeared to be trying to use my card at home at the same time I was using it on the road, leading to my getting a new card number, which I haven’t yet memorized, there was no problem, and after a brief chat, I hung up, happy that my bank was ever-vigilant and interested in keeping my credit card number safe.
Today, I got a letter from the credit card company asking me to fill in a brief questionnaire about how well satisfied I was with their service during my recent phone call. No problem — until I looked carefully at the cover letter before tossing it out, and realized that they’d put my full card number on the letter, making it a dangerous item and one that I needed to shred. I answered the questionnaire anyway, but made sure to mention that putting the whole card number on the letter was stupid, especially considering the reason for the call.
Dangerous Web Wanderings
If my writing style in the previous passages seems a bit more convoluted than usual, blame the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest; I’ve just spent the past half-hour reading this year’s winners, runners-up, and dishonorable mentions — and even worse, I followed a pointer from the contest page and, just a few clicks later, found myself reading filksongs; if Jeffrey weren’t in bed, I’d be trying to sing them, but I don’t want to wake him (or scare the neighbors — it’s a dark and coolish night and the windows are open, both at our place and theirs).