In my 28 years, I’ve gotten better at screening out questionable characters. I don’t pick up the phone for unknown numbers. I don’t eat at restaurants where the host stands outside begging you to come in. I’m learning how to pick out people I date but that is an iterative process that I will master when someone makes a Duolingo type app for it. Du not date this man. Anyway.
Today, I received a text I have never gotten before.
“Purchase Declined. Did you use your card at DICKSSPORTINGGOODS.COM for $99.99? Reply Y if Yes, N if No.”
I dropped my phone. Not only did I not make a purchase at Dick’s Sporting Goods today for $99.99, but I’ve never made a purchase at Dick’s Sporting Goods ever.
Panic ensued. Someone stole my credit card info and my mind went down a rabbit hole of what they could steal next. My identity isn’t precious to me- I have a younger cousin with my same name. But what if they got into my bank account? What if they found out how much money I spent on bucatini this week? What if they deduced from that that I have a habit of buying bucatini on the off chance that I’m going to make that Alison Roman shallot pasta, forgetting I already have boxes of it, but I never do and so I just have 4 boxes of bucatini taking up valuable pantry space that could be used for the stuff the ideal version of me eats like, oatmeal and flax seeds? What if my hacker finds out I have 10 punches on my bubble tea frequent flyer card which amounts to roughly $70 spent on bubble tea at my big age? That would explain why they didn’t feel badly about the one hundred dollar haul at Dick’s.
Now I was offended. I can’t believe this idiot would try to spend money on my card at a sporting goods store. I just wish they took the time to get to know me better. To walk a mile in my Tevas. The last time I was on a sports team it was the dive team and I was too scared to dive so I competed, (got judged with scores out of 10 and everything) in the front jump and back jump. The last time I attended a soccer game was to sit on the sidelines in the pouring rain at an ex’s IM soccer game in Williamsburg. He was a goalie. They lost.
I wish my hacker picked a more “me” place to fraudulently spend $100. Like a grocery store that only sells hot sauce, tinned mussels, and olive oil hand squeezed by a strong man with a gentle demeanor. Or like a grocery store that only sells spices and pastes that I’ve never seen in my life. Or like an Italian grocery store in Bensonhurst that sells parm in a loose baggy and if you ask for help finding anything they look at you with disdain- if you have to ask where to find the calabrian chili, you should just getthefuckouttahere.
I called the number on the back of my credit card like the fraud squad told me to.
“In the meantime,” the nice man said, “don’t make any purchases online.”
This is fine considering the only things available to me online are sent to my screen via the devil so it’s better if I take a break. The last purchase I made online was for a new dog tag for my small dog that lives in Maryland. It has a daisy on it because her name is Daisy. I wish they had asked me if that was fraud but unfortunately that tracked for me.
I wonder what someone tried to spend one hundred US dollars on at DICKSSPORTINGGOODS.COM today. Maybe one lacrosse stick? I don’t know if those are expensive. If I have a boy and he wants to play lacrosse then I’ll have fundamentally messed up somewhere.
I hope to make my first real purchase at Dick’s Sporting Goods soon for a fishing rod or a tent for a camping trip I never go on. Something that ideal me would buy. The me with the oatmeal and flax seeds in my pantry. The me that is more physically active. The me that, in an ideal world, knows a fraud when she sees one.
$99.99 on parmesan