There was a text message on my phone when I awoke:
"Your credit card (number) wasn't present for a purchase. Questions? Call the number on your card."
Well, yes, I did have a question. I was unaware my card was capable of astral projection. Maybe that was something in the new Terms and Conditions, and I'd enabled it by clicking ACCEPT instead of reading all the legal boilerplate.
You agree that your card shall be able to slip the surly bonds of material existence, and wander about in an incorporeal form, alighting where it pleases to buy the items it fancies.
It's possible. No one reads the Terms and Conditions before clicking to accept them. Don't bother me with these tedious, legally binding words I cannot possibly contest in court! I've got shopping to do!
Anyway. I was pretty sure I didn't get up at 4:22 a.m. and buy something online, so I called the credit card company. After wading through the options and saying "representative" nine times and getting nowhere until I finally said, "I hacked your CEO's account and put it all in my Bitcoin wallet," after which I was connected promptly to a cheerful fellow who was eager to help.
He went through my transactions and determined that the 4:22 a.m. charge was legit. It was a streaming service I've been meaning to cancel, but there's that show I've wanted to get back to because I saw the first episode and liked it. (They're now on Season 7.)
"Why was the message so oddly worded?" I asked.


