Jill's Journal: A fraudulent Friday fiasco

How many people must it take to get your credit card reactivated? 

My simple answer: Too many.

What started out as an intended quick run on Friday to the print plant in the northwest side of Sioux Falls, turned into an unexpected three-stop, time-consuming errand run for this gal.

The trip to the printer’s was planned, and when that popped up, since I was going to be in the “neighborhood,” a quick stop to have the battery replaced in my watch was added to my itinerary. But what I hadn’t planned on was the third stop.

As I rolled up to the stop sign along one of Sioux Falls’ busiest roads – 41st Street – my eye caught the Chase Bank building across the street. It was then that the lightbulb popped on: You need to go there to get your credit card reactivated.

It’s a thought I’ve had many times for months, yes, months, but just never took the time – or the need – to do. 

Now, some of you may be asking, why didn’t you take care of this online or over the phone. My quick response: I did, and I failed – all because of a verbal security code, that for the life of me, I have no recollection of writing it down, and if I did, where I did write it down.

Because I was going to be traveling to different locations outside of the U.S. last year about this same time, I gave the card company a heads up. I’m assuming that’s when the verbal security code was issued to me. To be honest, at the time I was more worried about managing the 50-pound weight limit for my suitcase.

Post-trip, everything was fine and dandy, that was, of course, until I tried to use the card months later, a day in October, to be more precise. When the card was rejected, I first turned to the website to investigate what the rejection was all about. I’d been able to pay on my balance each month, but no new chargers were being allowed.

That led me to dial up the company, who, of course, was requesting the verbal code they’d issued me months before. While I’m grateful for the security measures taken, I have to admit, it was frustrating knowing I am legitimately the only person who uses and pays the “damages” on the card.

So, when I spied the bank on Friday, I figured I could spare another five or 10 minutes to right the ship, so to speak. And with my driver’s license and me in person, there’s no way they’re going to need the “MIA” verbal code.

When I walked into Chase, I was surprised by the look of the bank. It didn’t feature the usual line of tellers I imagined that I would see. Instead, there were a series of floor-to-ceiling window offices, a row of three restaurant-like booth meeting spaces, a modern seating area for customers to wait, and tucked around the corner from the door, a one-teller window.

A woman, working on her computer in one of the booth-like spaces quickly greeted me with a smile and a willingness to get me pointed in the right direction. 

That was person No. 1.

She quickly steered me to the teller window, where Tucker, was ready and waiting, and off to the side, was Emma, a new hire in her first days of training. As expected, Tucker asked me all the necessary questions, asked for my proof of identity, called my account up on the screen, and then told me he’d be back in a jiffy.

That left Emma and I plenty of time to talk about our weekend calendars. 

Several minutes later, Tucker reappeared to inform me that I’d need to meet with Dalton, who happened to be on a phone call at the moment, and then steered me to that modern seating area.

I count them as persons No. 2 and 3. 

Ten minutes later – or so – Dalton greeted me with a handshake and an invite into his office. Once again, I repeated my dilemma, and once again, like Tucker, he retrieved my account information, asked for my proof of identity, and pulled up my account on his computer screen.

“We may need to talk with someone else,” he warned, adding that he had a 2 p.m. appointment, so our time together would be cut short, which, as it turned out, it was.

That was person No. 4

That’s when Dalton turned me over to Connor – and once again, Emma – who guided me into a separate all-window walled office. As you may guess, I shared my story, provided my identification, which once again led to them pulling up my account on the screen. And to add to confusion and security measures, Connor had to disclose to the phone contact with the bank that he was training Emma through this process, but he also needed clearance that required an employee code, which he had to retrieve from another computer in another office.

At this point, without counting Emma a second time, I’m now up to person No. 5.

Soon person No. 6 enters, via a phone call. I don’t remember her name, but she, too, needed the background of what we were trying to accomplish, needed proof of my identity and Connor and Emma’s identities, too. Several minutes into the conversation, No. 6 announces, “I’m going to have to send you to the “blah, blah, blah department.” By this point, they were all starting to sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher talking.

Thus, enters person No. 7 on the line, and yes, once again, we repeat the predicament I’m in with my credit card, with my failure to document the necessary security code that no longer allowed me to use the card, and so forth.

As it was finally disclosed, my account was being “held hostage” by the bank’s fraud department, which led person No. 7 to refer us to person No. 8. And once again, now almost in unison, we shared the story of what led us to this point in my quest to restore usage of the card. The in-person Chase reps – Connor and Emma –  had to confirm their credentials with the Chase fraud department rep and I had to answer a few of those “who was your best friend growing up” and “what is your favorite song” questions. Fortunately, that’s one test I do know the answers to without a cheat sheet.

More than an hour later, I was finally back in the driver’s seat of my car and winding my way through Friday’s bustling traffic along 41st Street and on my way back to Brandon to close out my workday.

Still grateful for the security measures that the company takes, all was not doom and gloom. When your charge card doesn’t work, you’re not spending money like a mad woman.