The Corporate Shit List: Placing my Indentity in the Oh-So-Incapable Hands of Chase

Someone is joyriding around San Francisco, carrying a credit card with my name on it.

I found this out over the weekend, when I returned home after being with my family for two weeks. B-friend kindly collected my mail--bills, ads, fluff, and my quarterly credit statement. I've subscribed to this credit report service for the painstakingly anal retentive since last year, when I lost my wallet and found it with my cash missing.

"You never know," my girlfriend said, "you should probably have your cards traced, just in case." In this violated, emotional state I agreed to plunk down $4.99 every quarter to receive a listing of every credit card I've ever owned, any loan or apartment rental. I don't bother to read all of the hairy details--I just read the first page, which offers a thermometer graph showing my credit score and where it lines up with other credit owners. Every quarter my score is stellar.

This time, however, my stomach dropped. My score had dipped 80 points. I take pride in my creditworthiness and began to panic. What in God's name happened?

I did the mental checklist of credit snags: Did I open a new account? No. In fact, I just paid my credit card bill--I use only one card, and my Amex if a vendor won't take my Mastercard.

B-friend began to pore over the following pages, the ones I normally blew off. "Here!" he said. "It's your Chase Visa! You missed a payment."

"Really?" I said, assuming that I'd been stupid and blown off my bill. But then I remembered, I didn't have a Chase Visa. Years ago I closed my account. I looked at the credit report. According to CreditInform, I owed $8,306 dollars on an account I opened recently, and I'd missed my minimum $220 payment.

Suddenly I felt sick. I'd become one of those people profiled on the news, whose personal information somehow got hacked and now, years later, they were still trying to restore their credit. Sure, it was an obvious mistake; but eight grand is a lot of money. I knew I would be in for a grueling road ahead, attempting to clear my name, and--even more difficult--clearing my credit report.

I almost didn't notice that I'd started to sweat, and my hand shook when I picked up the phone to call Chase.

"Please enter your 16-digit account number," the voice on the other line said. I yelled back into the phone as if I were talking to a human.

"I don't have a 16-digit number! I don't have the card!" I pressed "0" a few times until I heard eerily calm music.

The human who picked up on the other end wasn't the most informed person. Apparently, because I used to have a Chase card, they had my info in their file. But the address they had was over four years old. B-friend and I figured several scenarios: 1) Someone picked up a piece of mail sent to my old address and filled out the application or 2) Someone filled out a credit card offer that was sent to my current address, and since I was already in the system, Chase, just re-activated my old account.

"Remember that piece of mail we received--that credit card offer--that had been opened and sent to us tampered with?" B-friend said. I started to smell myself--the sweat of a person who, on paper, is on the hook for $8,306.

The customer service representative read off a list of recent purchases on the account. Apparently this person lived close by and had quite a time at San Francisco restaurants and bars--venues I've never stepped foot in. He told me the account had been closed in collections, when payments were not made, but he would place a note on the account and send my file to be investigated.

"That's great," I said. But how do I know if the charges are cleared from my record.

"They should be," I was told. "But call back Monday and talk to someone in the fraud department just to make sure."

I felt uneasy the rest of the weekend. I've had years of experience dealing with customer service. Reps always make it sound like they talk to each other, but that's rarely the case.

"Can you give me a direct line where I can reach someone?" I asked him, trying not to panic. He gave me a number.

Today I called that number and heard the same voice I heard on Saturday, asking for my 16-digit account number. So much for getting a direct line. I pushed "0" a few hundred times and, after 10 minutes of elevator music, was connected to a woman in the fraud department, who had a different story than the man I spoke with over the weekend.

I started to explain to the woman what happened. She asked for my social security number, and I gave it to her.

"You see," I said nervously, "I never even had this card in my  possession."

"Hold on," she said, and before I had a chance to say anything else, I was listening to more elevator music.

"You are entirely too casual about this!" B-friend said. He'd been listening to me from his desk. "You can't merely ASK for their help. You need to sound like you're rights have been violated. You have to DEMAND that they fix this now!" I understood his rationale--act indignant so no one will question that they screwed up. But I also have a theory: when you act like an asshole to people who can clear your account of $8,000-worth of charges, bad things happen. I wanted to remain as calm as possible. I'd freak out later, if they told me I was on the hook.

The woman came back on the line: "You have to fill out a report and then it goes under investigation," she said. I thought this was odd, since I'd never had the credit card in question. Filling out a report was something you did for a lost card. By starting this paper trail I felt more and more implicated as the party responsible. She asked for my current address, which I gave to her, for mailing the paperwork.

"Ok," I said, "So I fill out this report and then what? How long will it take to get these charges off my record?"

"It will take two weeks to get the paperwork," she said.

"Two weeks! Can't I get the paperwork faxed?"

"I don't handle that--hold on." I waited ten minutes for another person to pick up. She had none of the information that I had given the previous two reps.

"What's your current address?" she asked.

"I told her."

"That's what we have on file," she said. Apparently the last person I spoke with had changed the address on record when I gave her my mailing address--normally not a problem, but not when I'm trying to prove that $8k of charges was placed on a fraudulent account attached to my old address.

The rep says she'll fax over my paperwork "in five to seven days," once it's reviewed by an investigator. I just need to fill it out, file it, and my card and record should be cleared.

It sounds so simple. So then why do I have this ominous feeling of dread? Like reams of red tape are wrapping around me? Fact is, Chase should have questioned that much money being spent on an account that hadn't been used in four years. It's shame on them. So why do I feel like it's going to be shame on me? Stay tuned.

credit fraud consumer fraud credit cards

Comments

[Stacie]

Jory--
You can contact the three major credit reporters and request that your credit be on a review status (or something like that.) When ever an account is opened in your name, they have to contact you and verify that you did it.

I got a letter recently from a place that held my mortgage briefly. Their records had been accessed by hackers. They recommended doing that. It's something I need to do yet, so I don't know how much of a hassle it is. It's higher on my list of things to do now that I've read your story.

Good luck.

[Jen]

Jory this is so unfair. As if you don't have enough to deal with.

[mike]

Guess what--it's usually a family member or close friend who does this sort of thing to you. Got a friend whose brother did this to him several times before he had the lout thrown in the slammer.

[teffer]

Dear Sirs, I m dell employer. the problem you have is not the operators ... the problem is dell. I work in dell since 15 month and the salary is shit, the manager come from another planet (not business), the training is rare and the stress higt. p.s. plese do not compile negative questionary because that one is the salary of the poor operator. please if you have problem with dell you must call your sales and tell: I want my money back for this shit... this is the only method to speak seriously with them.

[3 credit scores]

You can contact the three major credit reporters and request that your credit be on a review status or something like that