Even if you don’t use a computer, this also applies to the telephone. My Amazon Kindle froze. I typed “Kindle Support” in my browser to find the telephone number instead of entering “Amazon.com” after the “www etc.
I told the friendly young man that I was an old lady who wasn’t good at technology. “Oh no, Mrs. Clarke! You sound so young.” (Stroke, stroke, stroke.) Plug your Kindle into your computer, and we’ll fix this . . . “ (Chat, chat, chat.)
“Ohmygod! You have a Zeus Trojan virus.” He moved an arrow around my laptop screen. “Look, this scan says ‘Listening, listening, listening . . .’ They have access to your telephone. I cannot stress enough how serious this is. They could even steal your identity! This must be fixed immediately.”
“I know a computer expert.” “They cannot deal with this. You can have Cisco network engineers help you remotely on line for $399, or I can help you now.” I said, “How do I know you’re legitimate?” He sent his employee ID, name and 800 number.
Knowing how bad a Trojan virus is. I was literally having palpitations. I did have enough sense to get off and tell Bill who said, “Call Key Computers.” Russ listened to my tale. “Let me check their number . . . That’s not an Amazon number. I was actually working at a client’s home when a scammer did the same things as this guy. “
I think that I’m a rational person. However, when you are actually within a situation emotion takes over. Here’s the catalogue of my stupidity: Instead of going to Amazon.com, I took a shortcut. I revealed personal information to a courteous, sympathetic, warm-voiced stranger. Amazon support has never asked me to plug my Kindle into my computer. “Bruce’s” voice dripping with concern and urgency, he showed me “evidence” that threw me into a state of panic.
My laptop needed servicing anyway, so I took it to Key Computers where I bought it. The owner, Bob Collins, lives down the street from me and is the son of one of my former real estate clients who is his secretary. Bill and I have done enough business with him over the years to know that he is competent and honest. Technician Russ serviced my computer, and the next evening Bob brought it back on his way home.
“As a community service, if people will call us, we’ll help them decide whether or not the problem is legitimate.” The number is (317) 898-4000.” Below is some of Bob’s advice:
Don’t respond to e-mails that ask you to update your password online. They can trick you to an alternate site that will steal your name and password. Call your credit card company directly with concerns. Don’t trust calls about malware. Microsoft, Comcast, AT&T, and banks don’t call. They mail a written notice. You should change your passwords twice a year. Don’t use real words. Use a combination of random numbers, symbols and letters. Don’t use birthdays etc. (I know people who use “1,2,3,4,5.” Duh!) Discourage your kids from sites that offer free stuff. Some are come-ons used by scammers.
No one is immune. Anthem recently had millions of its customers’ information, including social security numbers, stolen. Crooks are even hijacking people’s tax returns. We had a message that said the IRS was suing us and to call a number. The IRS does not call. Last night the news told about the owner of a day care center who was behind on her electric bill. A scammer threatened to disconnect her power, scaring her into sending nearly $1000.
We teach children never to get in cars with strangers. Perhaps all of us should be taught about strangers on the telephone, Internet and e-mail. My advice is to terminate the conversation until common sense returns. My next call per Bob’s advice is to contact the Indiana State Attorney General. wclarke@comcast.net