This weekly writing challenge focuses on the “weekly” part — start your post today, and build on it for the next four before publishing. Who knows where you’ll end up?
I promise, if there are developments, I’ll add them.
Garry is dealing with his relationship to the Red Sox as if it were a 12-step program — one day at a time. Don’t let them lead him down the garden path. Keep calm. Enjoy the moment. It’s a process for a die-hard Sox fan.
Today was something else. Just because yesterday was pleasant, rolled along without incident, I could not assume an uneventful week to come. I woke up at 7:23 am. I know. I have a big digital clock on the headboard.
I can read the time without eyeglasses. While I wait to fall back to sleep, I decided to skim my email. No special reason. I often take a peek at it while I’m waiting to drift off. Sometimes I fall asleep before I read anything. It’s just something to do. This time, though, I saw something did need attention. A message from Bank of America. Unusual activity had been detected on my account. Please call the bank immediately.
I’ve gotten other alarming messages from my bank, including last year when they were hacked. 2013 was a prime year for hackers. Bank of America, Lands End, Adobe among others were all hacked to the tune of millions of customer records.
I was phlegmatic about it, recognizing there was little I could do under the circumstances. I followed the various instructions including changing passwords and my user name all around the Internet. This was different. Personal.
Someone had hacked my bank card. I checked my account, saw I was $1,719 overdrawn. Some bogus Cancer Research project in the U.K. had withdrawn funds from my account. More accurately, was attempting to remove funds. I called the bank. The fraud resolution department lady told me she would cancel my bank card, order a new card (you will receive it in 4 to 7 days, blah blah blah).
Assured me the fraudulent withdrawals were on hold and would not be withdrawn from the account. My balance would return to normal (low, but positive numbers) at the next bank reset. Not to worry, she had it in hand, would take care of everything. Bank of America values my business. They are always looking out for me and protecting my interests. That’s what they told me, so it must be true. I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up a few hours later, I was feeling good. I’d taken care of an emergency and all was well in the world. I went to the kitchen, started coffee, passed out biscuits to eager canines, then turned on the computer.
When I opened my email, I saw another message from BOA telling me that my account balance had fallen to unacceptable levels and I needed to immediately fund my account.
I went to look at my account and sure enough, those “on hold” fraudulent withdrawals were no longer on hold. My money was gone. I called the bank again. “I took care of this already.
This morning. At 7:23 am.” I was furious, not good for blood pressure, but I was past caring.
Then I heard the words I most love to hear: “We have no record of an earlier call from you.” I exploded. Meanwhile, this new rep, obviously reading from her script, was explaining that having taken the money from our account (erroneously, but she didn’t seem to grasp the importance of this tidbit), it would take 90 days to get it back. It takes a nanosecond to grab my funds, but 90 days to restore it?
I went hoarse shouting into the phone. When the dust settled, I had no bank card and it will still take 90 days to complete “an investigation of this incident.”
Where’s the lady I spoke to this morning. She obviously exists because at 7:30 am, my new bank card was issued. She didn’t stop the illegal withdrawals or cancel the old card, so we were hugely overdrawn and vulnerable to more withdrawals.
But BOA had locked up our savings account as insurance against our overdraft.
I finally demanded a manager. Mr. Hamzey, Account Manager at the Electronic Claims Department in Tampa, Florida assured me my account is back, though there might be minor anomalies along the path to resolution. NOT TO WORRY. Even if my funds sink deep into red numbers, they will pop right back up. No need to worry.
Because Bank of America is on my six and surely they would not lie! I feel so very safe. (NOT!)
It’s the morning after the night before. Yesterday’s headache is lingering. Stress does that these days. Did I imagine adulthood would be rife with battles between me and customer service robots? It wasn’t even a blip on my radar. The robots hadn’t been invented. I only wish they had stayed that way — uninvented, I mean.
Sometime between yesterday and today, In an unending, inept attempt to “fix things, Bank of America made the fraudulent withdrawal vanish.
Which should have left our account where it ought to be and the other little things would disappear because they are linked to a deactivated bank card.
Not content with this relatively benign solution, BOA gave us a temporary credit against the non-existent withdrawal, so it appears as if we have a lot more money in our account than we do. They’ll eventually take the credit away. I hope they do it soon. Though it will be useful today, because we have to shop. The refrigerator is just about empty.
Meantime, I have to remember to not use the money that isn’t truly there. My calling them to try to explain would be futile. It would only confuse them.
Talk about inept handling. Wow. What a week, eh?