An Open Letter
To The Person or Persons Who Somehow Obtained My Debit Card Number:
You are shit.
I have no idea how you obtained the account number, only theories.
I have no idea how you used that number, despite the fact that I still had the actual card, to spend $50 to $100 at each of 10 or 15 gas stations in a single day.
I have no idea what you want to do with $500 to $1000 worth of gas, overpriced toothpaste, Hostess Sno-Balls, various jerky, slightly rusted cans of Barbasol and Miller High Life.
I have no idea whether you considered the impact that $500 or $1000 would have on a person who actually works to earn their money – whether it would impede things like paying the mortgage, buying the groceries and keeping the lights on. Among my people (humans) it is considered rude to lie, cheat and steal your way to comfort.
I have no idea whether you are aware of the time and hassle required to work with a bank to handle such things - although I imagine it's far less than the time and hassle that will be required of you by the police, prosecutors and judges.
But there is one thing I do know: I was overjoyed to sign the bank’s request to cooperate in any way possible to locate, apprehend, prosecute and punish your worthless punk ass.
A few things for you to keep in mind:
1. Since we were in Chicago when you went on a spending spree through Citgos, Amocos and Racetracs in Miami, it will be ridiculously easy to prove that all those expenditures were fraudulent. (You can look those words up in a dictionary. It’s a book of words.)
2. Gas stations, while probably easy places to get away with your particular brand of mouth-breathing, knuckle-dragging, constantly-drooling fraud, are also notorious for having security cameras.
3. If you think your actions cost me significant time and money, be warned that it’s nothing compared to what I’m willing to expend to find you.
4. I’m a lot smarter than you are, and a lot meaner.
See you soon,
Big Pinz
You are shit.
I have no idea how you obtained the account number, only theories.
I have no idea how you used that number, despite the fact that I still had the actual card, to spend $50 to $100 at each of 10 or 15 gas stations in a single day.
I have no idea what you want to do with $500 to $1000 worth of gas, overpriced toothpaste, Hostess Sno-Balls, various jerky, slightly rusted cans of Barbasol and Miller High Life.
I have no idea whether you considered the impact that $500 or $1000 would have on a person who actually works to earn their money – whether it would impede things like paying the mortgage, buying the groceries and keeping the lights on. Among my people (humans) it is considered rude to lie, cheat and steal your way to comfort.
I have no idea whether you are aware of the time and hassle required to work with a bank to handle such things - although I imagine it's far less than the time and hassle that will be required of you by the police, prosecutors and judges.
But there is one thing I do know: I was overjoyed to sign the bank’s request to cooperate in any way possible to locate, apprehend, prosecute and punish your worthless punk ass.
A few things for you to keep in mind:
1. Since we were in Chicago when you went on a spending spree through Citgos, Amocos and Racetracs in Miami, it will be ridiculously easy to prove that all those expenditures were fraudulent. (You can look those words up in a dictionary. It’s a book of words.)
2. Gas stations, while probably easy places to get away with your particular brand of mouth-breathing, knuckle-dragging, constantly-drooling fraud, are also notorious for having security cameras.
3. If you think your actions cost me significant time and money, be warned that it’s nothing compared to what I’m willing to expend to find you.
4. I’m a lot smarter than you are, and a lot meaner.
See you soon,
Big Pinz
7 Comments:
Go get 'im Pinz!!!! Something similar just happened to Sweet Melissa in CA. Are any of the stations ones you know you actually used the card at in the recent past?? And, most importantly, are there any of those Sno-Balls left?
By
LiAps, at 11:47 AM
Can't really tell yet whether we've been to any of those stations - we don't even know where all of them are. Most are just now "posting" to our account, and some just have the store's name and number, like Amoco 3857.
By
Big Pinz, at 12:31 PM
Dude, that sucks royally!!
WTF? You still had your card?
This happened to Betty when when visted LiAps too. I think they had spent aobut $3K in about 12 hours.
Hope you get'em! Then you call me. I've got a friend I'd like to introduce them to.
By
Pup, at 12:43 PM
How do you charge to a debit card without the card???
I am afraid, and I didn't even do it! Get that fucker. Oh, and also, push the bank and the police. Otherwise they will probably sit on it. Notify the stations, too. Ask them to keep the tapes, in case the police don't, and they get erased or something...
What a punk. I want you to get him/her. Kick ass, and blog about it!
By
Jamie, at 6:54 PM
I hope you don't get held liable for any of the fradulent charges.
Having said that: This is why I don't use my debit card around town. Credit cards have much better protection against theft... you simply don't have to pay the fradulent charges. With a debit card, if somebody steals it and charges with it, the money's already gone from your account.
And it's way too easy to swipe any credit or debit card through a portable device that stores all its information, for the thief to use or sell later... happens all the time in restaurants, etc. when the waiter takes away your card.
My advice: ditch the debit card. Stick with credit.
By
James F, at 2:17 PM
Sorry. It was me. Stealing your card was the only way I could feed my starving family... uh, snowballs and beef jerky, as we drove around the Miami area looking for work. And hey, you ever had jerky? Gets stuck in your teeth, hence the need for expensive toothpaste. And the Barbisol, well, gotta stay clean-shaven for those job interviews, even in the back and shoulders. I'll thank you not to laugh at my wife.
By
Michael, at 4:39 PM
Dude. That blows. Sorry to hear. I'm with Jaime - I know it wasn't me, and I'm even a little scared.
By
Kate the Peon, at 12:54 PM
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