Yesterday after lunch, I ran into my friend Beth in the hospital lobby. She had just walked in the front door. The bewildered look on her face caused me to ask her what was wrong.
“I just had to put my mail in the mailbox.”
Pause.
“I haven’t used the mail for a long time. I haven’t even bought stamps in over a year.”
Another pause.
“I’ve been paying my bills online, but the day after Thanksgiving, Wachovia called and asked if I knew these four people who had tried to access my account. I didn’t, so we agreed that I should close my account immediately. I’m never banking online again!” (It took me another minute of her talking to realize that she meant she had decided to not pay her bills online anymore.)
It turns out that she had received an e-mail message from Wachovia – or so it had appeared. She said it looked really authentic. Just by Beth’s clicking the message open, the sender(s) had accessed her password. Fortunately, when the scumbag attempted to charge $3,000 worth of stuff, Wachovia called her. Way to go, Wachovia!
I like the old fashioned kind of fish story a lot better.
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