The Fraudian Slip
You could say I took something of an IQ test the other day. You could also say I didn’t do very well on it.
I was lying down, watching television with my parents, parceling half my zombified attention to my phone.
I saw that I had received an email from Discover, warning me about an unusual purchase on my card, specifying a location where the transaction had taken place (Some town in Jersey): a location not relatively far from my Long Island abode, but one which I had not visited in my life, let alone at the specified time.
...Although I had made an unusual online order from a company that might have been based around that area and around that time...
So I followed the instructions, which brought me to the Discover website, where I was prompted to sign in. Then I was instructed to verify my account information, which made sense to me, as it seemed there had been a security breach.
So I entered my social security number, my date of birth, and my mother’s maiden name. I wasn’t in any sort of panicked state, I was just going through the motions. Doing as I was told. I really wasn’t bothered. I knew I’d have this cleared up before long.
I hit “next” when those three pieces of information were filled. On the following page, I was asked for my credit card information. My browser filled out most of the spaces, but would not enter the 3-digit security code for the card. I was pissed; I had taken my wallet out of my pocket and didn’t feel like getting it.
Then, in my laziness, I thought to myself, “This whole thing is probably just fraud anyway.”
Wait.
Oh yeah... It was.
Having closed the page, I went back into the email I (which wasn’t even Discover- it was an optonline account) and returned to the website (which on closer inspection wasn’t even the Discover website, but a well-presented fake using some derivative website builder). I filled out the information using random letters and numbers just to see what more they were asking for. At the end, the site even asked for my email and the password to my email.
Huh. Isn’t that funny.
I worried about this quite a bit that night, since there seemed to be a chance that at least they got my SSN and birthdate, not to mention dear mother’s maiden name.
But what bothered me even more was... why did I fall for it? All the red flags were there. It was obvious.
Am I stupid?
Having given it ample thought, I think the answer might be worse...
When I realized that this prompt was fraudulent, the realization had come all at once; I didn’t have to put any thought into it, I just concluded it when I didn’t want to run downstairs and gab my card.
Could I have known from the very beginning?
Earlier the same day, as I was pulling up the driveway to my parents’ house, I was thinking about how I hadn’t been back to Manhattan in a while, and I was feeling overdue, even though I knew I hadn’t quite found my place there.
Have I become so bored, so sick with stagnancy, that I subconsciously resorted to self-destruction just to see myself in motion?
In the wake of this theory, I comfort myself to believe that I’m just a big idiot...
...That the answer is just that boringly simple.
Whatever the case, I’ve taken the proper precautions. And writing about the matter, writing in general, always takes the edge off.
On that note, I am perhaps a week away from the completion of book five in the “We are Voulhire” series, titled “The Ascension of Akistry.” I’m having a blast filling in the little gaps I left behind on the first draft knowing that the big picture is perfectly centered. Unfortunately, it will take a while longer to publish it, as my brother is tied down with “RL” and needs some time to get to the cover.
It’s daunting to realize that, with my ninth published book on the way, I still only have one story truly completed (my standalone novel “The Last City of America”). The end is in sight with two more books left in “The Turn,” a world to which I’ve longed to return; as for Voulhire, I’m just getting started!