For a Good Time Call

My lunch started out like any other. Overcooked hamburger, undercooked fries. Then, suddenly, the unthinkable happened: my debit card was DENIED. “Oh, really? Try this one, I guess,” I stammered as I handed the waitress another piece of plastic. She tried to console me, “Don’t worry. It happens all the time.” My heart raced. Sweat droplets lined my brow. As my friends and coworkers readied themselves to leave, I awaited my fate. She returned, receipt in hand. I hastily scribbled my illegible signature and left a hefty tip. Partly because I was too flustered to do the mental aerobics. Partly as if to say “please forget this ever happened.”

When I got back to my desk, I logged on to my bank account. As meager as my balance was, it was still in the black. Hell, I could have covered upwards of a few dozen overcooked burgers. “Must have just been the system,” I told myself. F*cking computers.

On my way home, I stopped to get gas. Insert card. Remove quickly. “Please See Attendant.” Sh*t. Insert card. Remove quickly-er. “Please See Attendant.” F*CK ME!

The next day I called my bank and after pressing “1” more times than I can remember, I was told a hold was put on my account by the fraud department. There, I learned that at 7:13 AM on the previous Wednesday, my card was used to make three consecutive $52.79 transactions from First Media 13, a company I had never heard of out of New York. He gave me the company’s phone number and told me to call back when I got things figured out.

Now, at 7:13 AM on the Wednesday morning in question, I was in the process of wrapping up an all-nighter for a project at work. Did I manage to botch some online purchase in a Folgers-induced haze? A quick Google search yielded no meaningful results, so I called the company. Apparently, they process credit card transactions for, among other things, chat lines. You know, the late night “Call to talk to sexy local singles” ads. Ever hear of Quest? Some guy called using my debit card number, but used the wrong billing address/zip.

Long story short, the charges were nullified and my card was canceled and reissued. Now if you are anything like me, you know how painful it is to go without your debit card for a week. My pain and suffering alone is worth any form of punishment imaginable for this asshole. This is where you guys come in.

The people at First Media gave me the guy’s phone number and played a recording of his voice… so I called him. He answered. I hung up. I am a pussy. Reverse phonebook didn’t turn anything up, so I don’t know his name, and I don’t know how he got my card number. All I know is I hate him. Then I came up with this brilliant plan: post his number online and let you do the rest. So, here it is. Call it early and often. I implore you to make this dirty sonofabitch pay.