Today, I spent too much time on the phone and the internet trying to sort out some joyful banking issues.
My credit card has been compromised.
Arseholes.
There was an incident last week where I had a smaller amount taken from my account. Somebody had bought some Telstra Prepaid credit on my card. I called both Telstra and the bank immediately, told them both that there was no way I could do a point-of-sale transaction on my card in Melbourne at 1.20 a.m. when I was asleep in Darwin.
Bastards.
Anyway, the charge has been disputed, Telstra gave me a case number, the bank has put a dispute on it and I should eventually get my funds back.
However, because I was in Darwin at the time, I couldn't cancel the card. Travelling, no matter that it's for work, travelling without an operational credit card wasn't something I was willing to risk. I'd just have to be hypervigilant with the credit card activity.
Today, I found another errant charge.
This time, it was for more. $345 at a store called Honey Birdette - basically an up market sex shop.
As I explained to the bot, I don't think they do my size. Regardless, it meant another hour on the phone to the bank.
This time, the card has been stopped and a new card ordered, I'll be transferring funds onto a debit card for the interim so I can at least pay for a few things.
But it's the bloody inconvenient.
At to the scammers - may the fleas of a thousand camels nestled in their arm pits.
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