Identified
So I’m on the phone. Like – right now. With an organization I will refer to in this post as “Bank”. You may know them as an organization that uses a stagecoach as their identifying symbol.
I had a little bit of business to conduct with Bank. Namely, they were charging me a fee that they shouldn’t have been charging me for a service that they were giving me that I didn’t ever ask for. The kind of thing you have to talk to a person to fix.
I call bank. First, I get Dahlia. Dahlia asks for my account number, last four digits of my SSN, then asks me for my verbal password.
“Verbal password,” I reply? What is this, a swiss bank? I don’t have a verbal password, but I do have a home retinal scanner. Let me fire it up.
Evidently, I set a verbal password a long time ago in a bank branch far far away. I’m stumped, I have no idea what it is, so we go through more information to verify that I’m me. Savings account number, credit limit on Visa, etc. Dahlia is satisfied that I am, in fact, myself. Dahlia and I have a nice conversation about my issues with the extra cash that Bank has been extracting from my checking account to cover its butt while it tries to figure out this whole mortgage mess. Dahlia is just about to transfer me, when I ask,
“Now that you know I’m me, can I know what my verbal password is?”
“No, we can’t give it out, but we can set a new one,” says the representative of Bank.
Fair enough. (just hung up after 25 minutes OTP with them)
I give her a new verbal password. She transfers me (of course) to another department that is the one who has to address my specific issue. Never a good sign.
“Good evening, thank you for calling Bank, my name is Edwin, how may I assist you?”
I tell Edwin my issue. Edwin says these magic words;
“May I have your verbal password, please?”
Ah-HA! I know it! I just changed it, so this time I know it! I give Edwin the password, and hear,
“I’m sorry, sir, that is not that password we have on record for you.”
Me: “Ah, well I just changed it moments ago with Dahlia. Must not have propagated yet.”
Edwin: “I’m not sure what you mean, sir. We’re not able to change verbal passwords over the phone, it can only be done in person at a branch office of Bank.”
Me: “Um – but we just did.”
{insert standardized round and round with customer service rep, who firmly holds the line}
Finally, I give in. ”Can I guess?”
“Sure.”
So I guessed. Guess #1. Nope. Guess #2. Nope. Guess #3. Long pause for effect.
“Thank you, Mr. Tow, how may I assist you?”
All very James Bondian. I appreciate the need for security as much as the next guy. I have passwords that, when people hear me say them, give me funny looks. I get it. But things are getting ridiculous. The identity thieves have won. When you can’t give every piece of information about yourself, and still be believed to be you, its over.
Now if I can only remember that verbal password for the NEXT time I call, four years from now. I hope I get Edwin.