I returned his call Wednesday morning. After being transferred several times, I finally was connected with Dave; I recognized his voice. He said that he wanted to confirm the address for the delivery. I told him our address. He put me on hold “to check the details of the delivery.” When he came back on the line, he said that he would be recording our conversation. That was the first feeling that something was a little off kilter. He then mumbled something about Publishers Clearing House. The light bulb appeared over my head—Dave with an accent?—Not an Amazon delivery?—Do UPS drivers personally call to verify delivery details? I asked, “Did you say Publishers Clearing House.?” He replied, “It’s Publishers Clearing House, INTERNATIONAL.” Before he could ask me for any other info, I told him that I did not want anything from PCH, International or not. He then wanted to know why I would refuse whatever it was he was offering. I had figured out by that time that his next request would my credit card number to pay for shipping and handling or some such thing. Anyway, I again told him not to “deliver anything from PCH” and hung up. I wanted to be perfectly clear on his “recording.”
When I explained to Mr. Fixit about the call, he wondered how they obtained my telephone number, name, and address. I realized then that they had only my phone number, not my name or address. We no longer have a landline so the cell phone number isn’t readily available. The number was probably robo-dialed, and, stupidly, I gave him the name and address before I realized there was something goofy going on.
I hope there are no repercussions from my having given out the name and address. Some months ago, the State of South Carolina revenue information was hacked, and the free credit reporting service we received just lapsed. It makes me worry.
Perhaps I am being paranoid and I just passed up a gazillion dollar poster-sized check that would be delivered by Dave and his balloon-bearing minions. Somehow, I don't think there has been a climate change in Hell or that the three little pigs have sprouted wings.