(AKA the porn story.)
I've left a few people hanging, tantalizing them with hints of my involvement in pornography (and no, I don't mean
Stephanie Meyers novels) without delivering the goods of the story. At the gas station with
Mary a couple weeks ago as we prepared to go for a
photo drive: "Oh crap! ...No, phew, never mind. I've got a credit card." Muttering as I exited the driver's side door: "Stupid porn!" I promised to give her the scoop when I got back in, but forgot -- and we had plenty of other things to talk about anyway.
Beckle the Freckle and her BigScottishJerk.com also await the details. Though maybe it'll be anticlimactic now. Hmmm.
Anyway, here it is.
I used to be an expert mix tape maker. I knew all sorts of eccentric, obscure artists and I knew how to weave them together -- highlighting commonalities of melody or theme in disparate genres, subtly building a custom narrative -- in perfect 90 or 120 minute sets with no empty space at the end. Yes, kids, this was back in the stone age of cassette tapes; we had CDs but not the ability to burn our own -- and if I wanted to use just one song for my mix, I had to buy the entire album to get it. (Er, CD. I had to buy the entire CD. I'm not
that old.) The same effort I once put into my writing, and now put into photography, I used to spend making tapes for friends.
It's been a while, but around Christmas time I thought I'd get back into that racket again. They make good gifts, and it's the 21st century, after all! I can buy individual songs, even B sides or rare underground recordings! No more spending $15 a pop for the kitschy Dukes of Hazard theme (who, me?) only to find out the other tracks are lame (a shock, I know)! I brainstormed a play list and set about finding and purchasing each individual song.
Except that I couldn't find one. I knew it existed
somewhere, so I kept Googling until I found a site that claimed to have it. I had to create an account, of course; this was no old school illegal download. I could get a 3-day trial membership for $4.95, which seemed reasonable given the rarity of the song and my old willingness to pay $15 for the entire CD, so I dutifully typed in my debit card number.
My first clue should have been that the link to the long searched for MP3 didn't work.
My second clue should have been the skanky pop-up window granting me, along with my trial membership to MP3 downloads, temporary access to Girls!Girls!Girls!
Sadly, I am not smart like that.
I figured I'd thrown away five bucks, but that the trial period would end and life would go on as usual. But the next month I had two mysterious charges on my bank statement -- both, surprise, surprise, to different porn sites. I visited the sites' contact pages (and nothing else, eeew) to cancel the memberships I never intended to sign up for in the first place.
Problem taken care of, expensive lesson learned, right? Yeah, no.
The next month: Two new charges from two new porn sites (none of which claimed any overt affiliation with the others, although their Contact & Unsubscribe pages all looked exactly the same). I could find no master list of websites, no hint of the parent company, no way to untangle myself once and for all -- and no way to anticipate who would charge my debit card next as it was someone different every time. All because I gave my banking information to some off-brand download site I'd never heard of.
I knew I could refuse the charges if I had used a credit card instead; credit has built-in protections like that. But with a debit card, the money slips out of the account as easily as cash, right?
Desperate and annoyed, I emailed the bank. They called me right back (which annoyed me further -- if I'd wanted to correspond by phone, I would have called them first, geez! -- but I answered because I did want to get things resolved). They said they could cancel the debit card to prevent future charges, and they actually
could get my money back for any transactions within 60 days. Who knew?
*Whew!*
Anyway, that all brings us to the day of my photo drive with Mary. I'd been without a debit card for nearly a week, waiting for the new one to arrive. Unable to get cash from the ATM, I'd been stealing a couple bucks here and there from DH's dresser (which, to be fair, he often does to me -- is it really stealing if our money is shared?) but I didn't have any cash then. "Oh crap," I said, thinking I'd have no way to fill the minivan's nearly empty gas tank. But then I remembered I could still charge it -- albeit with crazy amounts of interest (and points toward a still as yet unopened 529 savings plan for the girls' college -- the only reason we still have a credit card at all). Then the phew, the never mind, and, of course, the "Stupid porn!"
So that's the story. Not nearly as interesting as it could have been, right? LOL. I feel so stupid to have fallen for the now obvious bait-and-switch. I had thought I was too savvy to get scammed online! D'oh! My guess is that they've got some program that grabs your search terms to create what looks like a working link -- that I could have searched for
~RCH~ plays pan flute with Zamfir MP3 and it would have claimed to have the download -- and the only way you find out differently is to give up your five bucks for the "trial memberhsip" that reels you in. And then they've got you.
So. Lessons learned: No more off-brand downloads for me. The bank will give me 60 days to dispute charges made to my debit card. Pornographers are wily little suckers. Ten business days feels like an eternity when waiting for a new bank card.
All good things to know.
~RCH~
PS - I never did finish that mix. :-(
PPS - I want to download Adam Lambert (from American Idol)'s rendition of Mad World, which I missed because Uno screwed up the DVR that night. But now I'm wary. Anyone know how to get it
legitimately? Thanks. And be careful out there, kids.
(we do have it on 
, but I haven't watched it) so my knowledge of the story is pretty basic: Kid imagines / dreams he's among monsters. And there are big palm trees, I think. In any case, I knew the story and its imagery are iconic, which made me nervous about how I could interpret this challenge in a way that would be true to the story without being too literal.
