Friend or Fraud? The Reconciling

The charge seemed strange. But so did the statement of my latest transactions. The dates were out of order, and some of the amounts looked odd.

I squint my eyes some more and do the mental calisthenics one must do in the age of online shopping when scanning your credit card statements in pursuit of potentially fraudulent purchases.

$32.39 from Apple DOT COM.

Hmmmm ....

I click to open the entry and peer at its particulars.

"Record Store."

I try to think about the last time I downloaded a song. It was $2.99 and it was prompted by the soundtrack selections of a popular Netflx Original series that I thought would be good motivation as I trained for fall 5Ks. But that was way back in the beginning of last month, before my ankle sprain, when I was still capable of Running up that Hill.

 

$32.39 seems a bit excessive ... even for the whole album. 

Now. ... like you fine folks, I trust my kids implicitly. And not just because the password to get into the technology storefront we all share on our gadgets has a password so long and obscure that I have to perform feats of fortitude just to find my hidden bible of magic words that will open that particular sesame.

And since the date listed on the stated transaction fell within our annual summer sojourn far from the place I usually look up said incantations. It was just highly unlikely anyone -- even me -- made a Record Store purchase for $32.39 while we were baking on the sand at the beach.

But ... it's not unheard of that my son might ask to download a game ... or the entire discography of Bill Withers ... and then quietly place the cash equivalent into my purse.

"Hey ... did you happen to buy a game or some music on iTunes last week?"

"No. I don't think so ... But I bought a Rolling Stones album ... but that was from a flea market not from the fruit fly place that sells computers."

It occurs to me now, that it would probably be more helpful if I had deceptive kids since mundane truthfulness meant only one thing: I would have to call some nice person at the 1-800 number on the bill and see if they could help me track down more information on the charge.

Which is what I decide to do, knowing full well this is likely a legitimate charge since the tell-tale frauds have all been clustered into groups of luxury items shipped to far-off locations: a spree of shopping. Not just some nebulous thing that amounted to $29.99 and tax sandwiched between verifiable purchases.

Without a human helping me, I could click every button on my computer and still not locate the combination that would illuminate my "recent iTunes purchases."

The woman who had taken my call laughed.

It's understandable. 

And after I had told her the car my first date drove, along with my ZIPCODE and replied to the security text she sent the phone she knew me to be calling from ...

WHICH IS TOTALLY NOT CREEPY AT ALL ...

She pressed a few buttons on her end and had my answer. ..

"The charge appears to be a subscription renewal for a fitness app. Would you like me to request a refund?"

Would !!

It was not a question. "I would like you to do that. But more than that I would like you to cancel that subscription."

She laughed again.

And then she told me how to check all my subscriptions, which was nowhere near as difficult as finding the passwords to buy the thing in the first place.

But I'm keeping her phone number ... just in case.