<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d3200994\x26blogName\x3dDreadful+Nonsense\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://shazzle.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_GB\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://shazzle.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d7615377689624956874', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

One of my not-really-resolutions-for-the-New-Year is that I will not tie myself in knots getting frustrated by things that I can't change, or that are no longer within my control. There is absolutely no point in sitting at my desk at work and stewing with unfocused rage about the fact that I seem to have more work to do than everyone else. There is absolutely no point in getting all het up about the fact that the trains are THREE MINUTES LATE! and I could have been spending that time in bed. There is absolutely no point in almost attacking tourists because they're making me a further THREE SECONDS late for work with their suitcases and maps and fanny packs and wandering about. And there really is absolutely no point, today, in getting all angered by the fact that someone cloned by debit card and starting topping up their stupid phones with it, probably so that they can download some happy slapping snuff videos off the porn-net and shove it right up their hoodies.

I had decided to be grown up this afternoon and had a brief look at my bank statement on-line, glancing at it through shaking fingers as I braced myself for the horrendous truth of what, exactly, Christmas and the New Year have cost me in monetary terms (having already paid for it all emotionally and physically). It wasn't, if I'm honest, as bad as I expected it to be, but bearing in mind that we're still a solid two weeks away from pay day, it's not ideal to already be in the overdraft I don't usually touch. However, a couple of the entries at the bottom of the statement caught my attention, as I had absolutely no idea what they might have been connected to.

Thanks to being in Dublin for eight days, most of the entries at the bottom of the page are at least two lines long, since I'm told where the card was used, how much it cost in euro, how much the exchange rate was at that second, and how much I'd been charged for the privilege. However, one or two at the bottom were very neat, one line entries, talking about a particular phone company and something about "TopUp".

Aha, I thought to myself, that's not right at all.

I rang the bank, they put me through to the fraud people, the fraud people asked me lots of questions, advised me that I didn't need to contact the police since it was a relatively small amount, and then advised me that they'd send me out a new card in the next few days and that I should cut up my old card.



"You've cancelled my card, then? I can't use it now?"

"That's right."

Which is all well and good, and obvious to anyone reading this now, but it never occurred to me that they'd immediately cancel my card on learning that it had been cloned. D'oh.

So now I've got no credit card (having lost the last one and not unlocked the new one), no debit card and no cash. For the next three days.

At least that's helping with the other resolution, the one about not spending so much money.


Post a Comment