Like death and taxes, it happens to all of us but it is still very disturbing. I just received an email which appeared to be from Amazon—logo, etc.—advising me of a purchase of a laptop by a man named Craig something in Delaware and asking me to call.
Not having any reason to doubt the legitimacy of this message—I’ve never been hacked before—I called the phone number and got into a Becket-like tangle.
You may remember from his plays that the short phrases exchanged by the actors are, to say the least, mysterious if not actually misleading—as though all human communication is just a bunch of spider webs.
The man who took my call had a strong East Indian accent although he insisted he was in Seattle. He had been taught how to deal with frightened customers: “Don’t be nervous, I’m going to help you, just a moment”—and then a long list of requests, including if I’d ever authorized someone to use my account in South Korea, Russia, China—or Cleveland.
No, I told him, increasingly bewildered and visualizing the old tramp on the Becket stage.
He became even more consoling: “You smart lady, I help you figure this out.” But figuring it out meant me giving a lot more information, which he claimed he needed in order to sift through the disputed order. I didn’t give it to him.
Then he told me I needed to go to a certain gas station on Cerrillos Road to pick up something he called an Amazon card.
I know the gas stations on Cerrillos Road and it seemed very unlikely that any one of them could supply me with anything except gas.
The issue unresolved, I hung up. I couldn’t reach a human being at American Express to cancel my account, only a long series of automated answers that didn’t apply.
It seems likely to me that the millions of orders we are placing through credit cards and Amazon, ignoring the horrible conditions in the Amazon warehouses (described in detail in last Sunday’s New York Times), the gas used by huge trucks dragging this stuff all over the country, the environmental impact of all those boxes and plastic air pillows (totally unneeded in most cases) has laid us open to the depredations of the hackers. After all, they are only small corrupt agents taken advantage of the far larger corruption of Amazon’s monopolistic practices.
Or maybe like Becket’s characters, Vladimir and Estragon, we are only caught—still!—in a vast web of miscommunications and misunderstandings.
Beverley Ballantine says
Sallie, I think you were “phished,” instead of hacked. I enjoyed the story and agree with the Amazon commentary. As an elderly, however, I can’t do without it yet. Perhaps when packages start dropping from their drones, I will get a driver.
D. Gray says
Go to your Amazon account and look at your orders. You will most likely see that nobody else bought anything, and you can just ignore the email!
Sandy Schreiber says
Absolutely do not call them back. I have gotten 3 or 4 of these calls. They are ANSOLUTELY scams!!!
Sandy Schreiber