My bank recently started this program where I can get points
when I use my check card. It’s a pretty good deal. The
points can be redeemed for hotel stays, car rentals, etc. so
last evening I picked up the phone and dialed their number
for customer service.
I hit all the right buttons. I put in the last four digits
of my social security number and entered my 84-digit account
number. Next the recording asked me to “tell them a little
something about what I was looking for so they could better
direct my call” to someone in a slum in Bombay who wanted
me to believe his name was really Chas.
The first thing Chas asked me for was my PIN number. I
explained that I hadn’t called them since they were bought
by the bank before the bank that bought them last time so
they could evolve into the cold and heartless institution
that demanded a PIN number from their customers before they
can start getting reward points when they used their check
card.
Here’s how the rest of the conversation went:
Me: I don’t remember ever having a PIN number
Chas: Oh, every coostomer has a peen noomber, Mr. RawjerzI,”
Me: Why then did the nice lady on the automated system ask
me to enter the last four digits of my social and then my
84-digit account number? She said it would help you locate
my account. Now I…
Chas: Yes, we ask everyone that, in case you’re impaired
Me: I may be after this conversation. Where do I go to get
this PIN number?
Chas: You already have a peen noomber. I’m looking at it
right here on the screen. You’ll just need to tell me what
it is so we can begin giving you excellent service!
Me: Uh huh. Well, I don’t know my peen noomber. Can you
give me one of those hints like they do on the Internet?
Chas: Yes, I’d be happy to. It’s the last four digits of
your social security noomber…
This exchange must have sunk deep into my psyche because I
dreamed later that night that I died and went to Heaven.
When I got there, God asked me for my PIN number.
I told Him my mother's maiden name. He looked down at his
tablet and back up and said, "Nope." I told Him my
first dog's name and got the same response.
Now I'm starting to sweat. I asked him, "Can't I get a
hint?"
He said, "Okay, that's fair, I guess. What's the date
of your wedding anniversary?"
"Which one?"
Poof! Then I woke up...
To be fair to Bombay Chas, I do understand the need for
security. Not too long ago I lost my wallet and was the
victim of identity theft.
Later it was mailed back to me with a note that read:
“Who’d want to be YOU? All your cards are maxed out and
your driver’s license has expired. I even tried using your
phone card and the phone company cut in and requested a
payment!”
Dang, I thought. If he had used my new check card I could
have gotten points.
Copyright Randy Rogers
