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?