To the Thief Who Stole My Money
Dear Thief
You know who you are, even though you probably do this so
often you won't even remember my name. Well, let me remind you. I am the
British tourist whose credit card you cloned when I paid in a
restaurant in Berlin last week and used it in Russia to buy from an
Italian website. I don't know whether you are the cheerful and friendly
waitress (who I tipped generously for your excellent service), or
whether you are another member of staff. Perhaps you are the owner of
the establishment that boasted it had been in situ for 100 years.
Perhaps you have no connection with that restaurant aside from having
the opportunity to place something inside the card reader to copy my
information (as my credit card company informs me you operate).
Whatever, whoever you are you may have managed to inconvenience my
entire family, who now have no credit cards for up to ten days. You may
have forced us to rethink our activities in the lead-up to Christmas.
You may have stopped me purchasing a limited-edition item I had been
waiting weeks to buy. You have almost certainly landed us with the
embarrassment of having to field calls from people who find that our
payments have been refused. But you will not get our money. You may find
that you do not even get your fraudulently-acquired goods because our
credit card company spotted it very quickly.
You're probably
wondering why I'm even bothering to write this. The simple answer is it
makes me feel better. When I go to bed tonight, it'll calm me to know
I've had my say, and I'll sleep well. I wonder how well you sleep at
night?