"Hi, my name is Melissa and I'm with the Nationalcreditcardprotectiongroup and we're calling to inform you of some new policy concerns for your account.  And first of all, I'd like..." she began with all the speed of a cat to a tuna can.  And due to her speed, I wasn't able to hear the name of her company clearly.  Strike one.  If I'm gonna have to listen to telemarketer schpiel they're darn nigh gonna pronounce things where I can understand them. 

     "Uh, excuse me," I said.  "Who is it that you're with again?"

     "National Credit Card Protection Group.  We're the nation's largest organization dedicated to protecting credit card theft."

     "And am I affiliated with your organization in any way?" I asked.

     "Well, no," she said.

     "Ah. I didn't think so. It's just from what you were saying it sounded like I had some sort of account with you."

     "Oh, uh.  Well, maybe it was the tone of my voice or something..." she said, sort of taken aback. 

     "Well, I dunno.  You mentioned policy concerns and that would seem to imply some sort of account with you."

     "Well, uh, I..."

     "Nevermind," I said.  I wasn't quite sure which one of us was being obtuse but from her tone I was beginning to suspect it was me.  She shook it off and cheerfully returned to her script. 

     "First of all, I need to confirm your address for our records."  She read off my address to me from her computer screen, mispronouncing Tupelo as TUPP-ELLO in the process.

     "Well, that's pretty much it, except that it's actually pronounced TUpelo," I corrected. 

     "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said. 

     "Don't worry about it.  I'm not offended.  It's really not that great a town."  This seemed to put her back at ease again and after a brief laugh she returned to her script. 

     Melissa explained to me that the National Credit Card Protection Group wanted me to know that credit card companies have it as standard policy that if my card is stolen I must report the theft within 48 hours for them to act on it.  However, and this is the ironic part, most credit card thieves don't have to steal the actual card to get the number.  They have any number of ways to do that and can take your number and run up charges which won't show up until you get your bill, 30 days later.  Sounded pretty logical to me, but I was waiting for the part where Melissa would tell me that I was gonna need to pay them a lot of money for protection.   Instead, she explained that if I were to ever have any credit card trouble there was a 1-800 number I could call and the National Credit Card Protection Group would protect my credit card.  Melissa was even so kind as to give me the number.  Then she mentioned that coverage such as this would cost $1 per year and I could get this coverage on all of my credit cards provided I paid my minimum balance.  In addition, the National Credit Card Protection Group would be sending me small, dime-sized stickers that I would need to place on the back of my credit cards, otherwise they wouldn't be protected.  Before she could do that, though, Melissa needed to confirm a 1-800 number already located on the back of my credit cards and she would give me a few moments to go and fetch my cards. 

     A red flag popped up in my head.  Wasn't sure what it meant, but I didn't like it.

     "Hmm.  I'm not sure I want to go get my credit cards and read any number to you."

     "You don't?" she asked, as though this was just a complete surprise for her.

     No, I didn't.  Besides the fact that it meant walking across the room, I just felt that something was fishy about the whole thing.  I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly was fishy and I certainly wasn't able to express this feeling in words.  I just knew something was off.  Melissa told me that if I had any questions about the company to just fire away and she would answer them as best she could.  In order to have questions, though, I had to first possess an understanding of why I didn't trust them in the first place.  Finally, I decided that there was really no harm in reading a toll-free number from the back of a credit card, so I went and fetched my wallet. 

     "I'll need to know what kind of card it is first," Melissa said.

     "Well, there are three of them.  Does it matter?"

     "Pick one," she said.

     Again, red flags popped up in my head, because if this protection was to be for all of my cards, as she had just said, wouldn't she need the numbers from the back of each of the cards?  I picked one of the Visas and read her the toll free number.  She then asked about the spelling of my name, as printed on the front of the card, and whether there was a middle initial.  I told her there was a W. 

     "Okay, good," she said.  "Now, the first number imprinted on the front of the card is a 4.  I need to confirm that number, so please read the number to me from left to right."

     "You mean read you my credit card number over the phone?"

     "Yeah," she said cheerfully.

     "Uhhhh, NO!" I said uncheerfully.

     "You don't want to?"  Melissa asked, as though everything were still on the up and up.

     "No!  I'm not in the habit of giving my credit card numbers to people over the telephone just because they ask for them. You want to confirm my number?  You read it to me and I'll tell you if you're right!"

     "Well, sir, I can understand where you're coming from on this.  If you like, you can call the protection number I gave you earlier and speak with one of our representatives to confirm who we are and that we are legitimate.  You can ask them any questions you may have.  Then I can call you back in, say, 15 minutes and we can proceed."

     Now I was certain this was fishy.  When I decide to call someone to find out whether a company is legitimate or not, I'm gonna want to call someone a bit more impartial than someone from THAT COMPANY!  At this point I knew I no longer wanted anything more to do with the National Credit Card Protection Group.  However, my basic sense of politeness was being annoyingly strong and I didn't feel I could just hang up on Melissa.  She'd laughed at my jokes, after all.  Perhaps there was another way out.

     "How bout this.  Instead of you calling me back, is there a number where I can call you back after I've confirmed your legitimacy?"  I figured that once I got her number, I could then hang up and then just "forget" to call her back.  Sure, it was a typical male response on my part, but this was a soul-less telemarketer who seemed intent on getting my credit card number.  Unfortunately, Melissa didn't know her own phone number and had to go ask a superior officer if she was even allowed to give any number out other than the protection number.  She didn't walk far, either, because I could hear their entire conversation.  They sounded nice, cheerful and not at all suspicious.  Her boss didn't say anything like "Did ya steal his credit card number yet?" and she didn't say "Nah, the rube wants to call me back.  Har har har."  Perhaps she was legit.  Or perhaps my being able to hear them was by design, hoping to lull me into their confidence.  She returned to the phone shortly and offered me a number I could call and reach her at.  However it was a long-distance number, she explained, but if I wanted to pay the charges I could use it.

     "Is there any chance you could just send me some materials about this in the mail?" 

     "Oh, we don't send out mail," she said.  "That would be much more expensive for us than calling you."  This from a girl who had just told me that they would be mailing me some stickers to put on my cards.  Hmm.  I'd have to resort to the old standby.

     "Well, here's the thing," I said.  "I generally have a no telemarketers policy since I've had some bad experiences with them in the past.  And I really don't see why I have to give you my number for you to confirm it.  If you already have it, you should be able to read it to me let me confirm it for you."  Melissa's response to this was that she was willing to handle it however I wanted, so long as she could follow the rules her employer had set up for her and apparently reading me my number wasn't in those rules. 

     "Well, I don't mean to bum you out, Melissa, but I really have no way of knowing that you are who you say you are.  And since I'm pretty sure that most Visa card numbers begin with a 4 it's no amazing feat that you happen to know that.  Whether or not you are legit doesn't really matter since I'm not going to take the chance.  So I think the way I'd like to handle this is by just going our separate ways at this point."

     "I understand, sir," she said.  "And thank you for an enjoyable phone call."

     Being the Crusader Against Morons that I am, I decided to find out what was really going on.  I went on yon internet to dig up any information I could about this group.  I couldn't find the National Credit Card Protection Group, per se, but then again, that might not have been their name since Melissa had been speaking in tongues during that part. I did, however, find the official site of the National Fraud Information Group, an organization dedicated to the avoidance of fraud and the reporting of it.  What they had to say on the subject of Credit Card Protection groups was very interesting.  On their Special Alert page they had the following paragraph:  "NFIC has received extensive reports this week from victims who have been called and marketed credit card protection insurance. The pitch involves a request for credit card account numbers, mother's maiden name, and other personal financial information, ostensibly to create a card protection insurance policy. The caller does not give an address or any other identifying information. NFIC advises never to disclose account numbers or other personal identifying information over the phone, as it can be used to make fraudulent charges. Credit card protection is not necessary. All credit card account holders are protected against theft and loss of their cards, with liability up to a maximum of $50 in most cases."

     The NFIC website also has a toll free number (1-800-876-7060) as well as on-line forms to report fraudulent bastards, which I have now done. 

     So the moral of this story is, if the National Credit Card Protection Group, or whatever their name really was, calls you, beware!  If nothing else, though, you can use the above story as a starting point in crafting a delicious afternoon of telemarketer torment.  You could keep one of these guys on the line forever, pretending to be confused, then pretending to go and find your card while you leave them on the line for five minutes, then returning and pretending to be confused some more, then pretending to not be able to find any of the numbers they're looking for.  Oh, there are just hours of entertainment to be had.  Be sure to tell them I sent ya.