I pay a lot of money just so people can try to scam me
This column is part complaining, and part public service announcement.
Your phone may have once been an instrument you used for your convenience or to stay in touch with people you love or who provide you with services. It is now a way for creepy, corrupt strangers to call and text you as you squint at the number and think, “what?”
I’ll tell you right now you can probably safely answer one in 20 unknown calls and ignore the others. Canada Revenue will not be texting you; neither will Canada Post. You have not won anything. Nobody is holding money for you if you just click to collect. You are not getting anything for free. If the email you receive spells Rogers with a zero instead of an o, they too, are not legit. Same if the email letterhead says it’s from Royal Bank, but the address is Max887436475@hotmail.
Your bank will not text you. Nobody — nobody — will legitimately be asking you for a password, a credit-card number, a SIN number, or a code. And definitely not money. Do not open links just to look. Block and move on. If you’re genuinely worried about something, you call that entity on a number you look up elsewhere and ask if they contacted you.
When I was a kid, we’d race to answer the phone. We had no idea who it was and it was the most exciting thing in the world when the phone rang. I grew up with a party line, which was awesome entertainment until Mom caught us listening to the nasty woman on the next street complaining about everything. What can I say; we made our own fun.
The technology evolved. So many script plot lines were based around answering machine mishaps I’m surprised they can even make movies nowadays. Caller ID meant you could dodge that weirdo you turned down, or yell at your friends to shut up because Mom was calling from the cottage. Mischief got much easier. The problem now, of course, is crime got easier, too.
My phone rang a couple of weeks ago and the display said Private Number. I answered it because I was bored.
“Hello?”
“Hello, I’m calling from Wakefield police.” Oh, this was new. “Why?” I asked.
“Is this Emily Lastname?” “No, thank god.”
“I must have the wrong number.” I happen to have a very confusable number — think 905 211-1112.
“Is Emily OK?”
He’d hung up by then, and I spent the rest of the day worrying about Emily. I also started trying to find out where Wakefield was. There are many Wakefields around the world. I realized how easily someone could be kept on the line with jarring information, or even if they’re just snoopy like me. I get it. And I don’t even know who Emily is.
We’re humans. Many of us will respond to someone in trouble, and if you don’t at least feel the urge to do so, you are probably broken. There was a time when you saw someone by the side of the road trying to get your attention, you’d pull over to offer assistance. I won’t do that anymore. The best thing you can do is note where they are and call for help on their behalf. In a time when it is increasingly harder to discern a trap from a genuine plea, I am more grateful than ever that most of us have a phone. The smartest thing you can do about a questionable contact — every time — is to put a step that you initiate between you and the caller.
Don’t even get me started on political parties that text me.