I fully intended for this post to be a witty open letter to the person who stole my identity and used my bank card for an extravagant online shopping spree (total cost: €3.285,17). Or perhaps a song, in the style of Brassens, who in Stances à un Cambrioleur so eloquently thanked the burglar who had the good taste to pay his house a visit.
It would have described my joy at receiving a letter from the Caisse d’Epargne, heavy with menace, which informed me, in typically verbose (but not particularly comprehensible) French, that having noticed repeated dysfonctionnements consécutifs à l’utilisation de ma carte bleue, I was invited to “regularise” the resulting overdraft. If not my card would be cancelled, my bank account immobilised, the Banque de France notified, and helicopters would be dispatched to hover outside my apartment window so that men in uniforms could shout at me over their loud hailers and/or airbourne snipers could get me in their sights.
Imagine my discomfiture when I took a peek at my bank statements online and noticed that I was overdrawn to the tune of a little more than € 3.285,17. Had I been sleepshopping at Brandalley, MisterGoodDeal and CarrefourMobile in Courcourrones for the past couple of weeks, or could there be some other explanation?
Cue a call to the emergency number to halt all spending on the offending card, a visit to the commissariat de police (just behind the town hall where we got married) to make a lengthy statement to a friendly, businesslike lady wearing impressively sturdy boots and, last but not least, a trip to my bank to hand in a letter explaining my woes (they don’t do oral) and attaching a list of the opérations frauduleuses they had failed to spot.
The good news is that apparently I have some sort of insurance against such eventualities and, even if my overdraft does not appear to have miraculously disappeared as yet, I am assured that all will be set right dans les meilleurs délais.
In the meantime I trust the men in helicopters have been dispatched to the delivery address provided for whatever item (a flat screen TV?) was purchased on MisterGoodDeal for the tidy sum of € 1.827,48 by my impersonator, in order to intercept the guilty party.
As for my sense of humour, it remained intact until approximately 5 p.m. yesterday, when water began to pour down my kitchen walls in a repeat performance of last year’s dégât des eaux and I began searching for contact details for the absent, brand-new owner of the apartment using google.
It reached an all time low at 4.53 a.m. when I could be found atop a ladder in my négligé and rubber soled shoes, brandishing a screwdriver, intent on removing the water-filled bathroom ceiling light.
So there will be no witty, carefully-crafted post today as morale is at rock bottom.
Move along folks, nothing to see here.