FINANCIAL RAPE

I have had an excellent break. I feel fitter and mentally more alert. I believe this state to be a result of a certain amount of physical activity and eating more sensibly. And that’s where the good news ends.

Perhaps to many I am a technological dinosaur. Although I do use technology almost on a daily basis, there are aspects that leave me bewildered to say the least. As an example, it was only a week ago (as I write this blog post) that I decided I would avail myself of internet banking. Gradually (actually painfully slowly) I managed to do what was required of me to set everything up and, if I am honest, I regarded this as something of a miracle. So far, so good.

But – and there is always a but – at the back of my mind I still had doubts about whether this was “right” for me. It did not take long for my deep-seated fears to manifest themselves; just two days later I found my bank account had been “compromised” – a polite way of saying that some bastard had managed to take money from my account. Not being technical I have no idea how this happened, but I went to my bank and explained what had happened and then spent the best part of the next week closing old accounts, opening new ones, telephoning and writing to all parts of  UK organisations with whom I need to interact, advising them of the situation. All were sorry to hear of my problem and were extremely helpful to me.

Now, everything is back to some degree of normality – except my inner self. Perhaps I was merely “unlucky” (whatever that means) but I have NO desire whatsoever to go down the internet banking route again. In fact, I can say that in future I shall keep myself to myself – I have always disliked the concept of “social networking” and have removed myself entirely from that concept. I have even installed some anti-advertisement software so that I am never bothered by it (as I have no intention whatever of buying online).

Am I angry? Yes, but only with the individual who caused me so much bother; I hope his soul rots in Hell.

Until next time (and happy to stay a dinosaur),

Peripatetic Scribe