Thursday, April 21, 2011

he that steals an egg will steal an ox

the salt lake airport never looked so beautiful as it does now.

husbands and wife's all kinds of cuddled up, girls walking around with their green and white starbucks cups, hauling their designer luggage. the news junkies buying as many magazines as their little arms can hold, practically drooling at whatever news is being broadcasted across the television. 

and if you span this terminal long enough you'll see a ginger sitting in the corner, pounding the keys on her laptop, ready to find the lady that called her earlier this week, and kill her. 

one hour later--

alright, let my further explain. so there i was, walking through the salt lake airport looking for anything to devour. i'm suffering from the kind of hunger a second grader has five minutes before lunch. nothing too wild, but enough to make me grouchy. i don't think most can imagine a hungry, grouchy, ginger. but let me help you out...

think of the killer doll chucky... live size.

talk about scary. anyways, i roll up to this dinky stand and grab a "naked" smoothie drink. these things are delish. the lady rings my smoothie up, runs my card, and next thing i see on the screen is denied. my first thought, "am i being punked right now? where's ashton?" my mum just put money on there so i wouldn't start eating innocent citizens. now the cashier has this puzzled look on her face and tells me that it wasn't just "declined", but that the "card number is invalid". what the crap does that mean? have i been living with the wrong identity for the past eighteen years of my life? is my life a lie? is this kendra moberg name written on my debit card not i, kendra moberg? 

i snag my card back and then the fog clears. 
i think back to a phone call i got this week. 
no way.

monday--

being responsible and diligent, i locked myself in my room after school and began packing everything that i own into box, after box, after box. 7:00 rolls around, and a random 800 number pops up on my phone. usually i never answer these because believe it or not, i have better things to do then talk to some telemarketer for hours. but let me remind you... i had been in my room foreva! so i answer it.

on the other end of the line is some random chick, telling me that there are charges that have been put on my card that day, and marked as fraud. she starts reading off the places where this so called "fraud" has been raking up.  k-mart, bebe, a few gas stations, express... blah blah blah. i'm already beginning to ignore everything she's telling me.

i may only be eighteen, but i'm no idiot. i instantly thought back to my senior math class. the random one i needed to graduate since i didn't pass the state test for math. embarrassing right?  but hey! i only missed it by one, and i don't even remember taking the stupid thing. so for not even realizing what i was doing then, only missing one is pretty good.. SO! i signed up for "financial literacy", better known as "math for the real world". we learned all about insurance, stock, credit, loans, and you guessed it fraud. i can't tell you how many stories we read about people getting ripped from random emails or phone calls from desperate thieves. pretending to be the card holders savior, by giving them a tip that "fraud" has been occurring on their card. they get all the information they need, and bada bo bada bang, their rich and someone is dead broke. 

i'm a smart girl. a smart witty girl. a smart witty girl who will tell you what's up when you need to be told what's up. so i play along. i've seen my dad do it a million times. tell the caller random information, and then overload them with questions. they usually transfer you to someone else, or give you a different number to call, which usually is disconnected seconds after you get off the phone with them.


so this idiot women starts asking me all kinds of questions. my card number, email, phone number.. i was just waiting for her to ask me my social security number and my mother's maiden name. i keep feeding her all kinds of BS, and she starts to catch on. so she starts telling me how much has been used, where and when, and what options i now have. but you see, i know for a fact that there is only $.52 on my card. thanks to my mom, if the money isn't in my account you cannot use the card. it's the best way to avoid overdrawing money this ginger doesn't have, the card simply just won't let you. so i start telling all of this to the girl, stating fact after fact. after way too many "well", "uhh", and "ehh"'s, i tell her that i'm going home this weekend, and if somethings really wrong with my card, i'll deal with it at the bank. i ask for a phone number that i could call back, we hang up, i call the number, and sure enough... it's disconnected. 

i sat in my naked white room so satisfied with myself. no fraud junkie will ever get a penny out of me. mama didn't raise no fool. 

well, when that cashier told me my card had declined, and that the card number was invalid, that phone call began running through my mind. i called my mom, filled her in, she called the bank and all was good. i was boarding my flight, so my next attempt would have to wait until boise. 

well GUESS WHAT. it still doesn't work. maybe that satanic women really was trying to help me out, or maybe she was some kind of ghost traveler that slipped through innocent people's cell phones and into their wallets, stealing debit card information and identities, casper's evil twin, or the same demon that is after the little boy in insidious.

either way.. something's going on, and when i figure out who's behind it, they better sleep with not just one eye open, but both. this ginger fury will destroy you.

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