The Concession

I was two cars away, from placing my order over the mouthpiece, when Alanis Morrissette, was unceremoniously interrupted, by the incessant strumming of a guitar ring tone. An unknown number flashed across the screen of my car’s audio system. Irritated, I pressed the green icon. It was still not intuitive for me to press the 'Decline' icon.

“Hello. This is BuyOnline, calling you, regarding a potentially fraudulent transaction, that was made from your account. Press one to speak to a customer representative for further assistance.” The feline tone was impersonal and professional.

My fingers fumbled with the touchscreen in front of me to no avail. I rummaged through my bag for my smartphone and pressed one.

A male voice answered. “Hello, this is Jordan speaking. How may I assist you?”

“I just got a call from BuyOnline, about a potentially fraudulent transaction, made on my account, and I was asked to press one for further assistance.”

“Yes, madam,” he said knowingly. “Our records indicate that a gift card, in the amount of a hundred and twenty dollars was purchased this morning, from an IP address in Ohio through your account. Did you make this transaction?”

“No, I did not.”

“Ok. I will connect you to BuyOnline’s Security department, where you can speak to a security specialist regarding this transaction. Before I do that, I would like to ask you a few questions. How do you typically log into your BuyOnline account – is it through mobile or a computer?”

“I use my laptop.”

“Ok madam, could you please log in to your computer now, while I connect you to a security specialist?”

I made an exit from the line of cars snaking around the drive-through. I let Jordan know that I was on the road and that it would take me just a few minutes before I could get in front of my computer.

“I could call you back at a time that is more convenient for you,” he offered.

“Could you please just hold on for just like five more minutes?” I wailed at the top of my lungs. “What do you want me to do when I get in front of the computer? Do you want me to log into my BuyOnline account and reset my password?”

“No, no madam. Please do not log into your BuyOnline account. And, please do not reset your password. The hackers are already online and are still active in your account.”

A wave of heat crept up my face as I tried to remember what credit cards were linked to the account.

“What do you mean the hackers are still active? Can you see them online? Now? Logged into my account?” I said somewhat hysterically. It felt incredulous.

“Yes madam, the hackers are still active. Please do not log into your account.”

“Are you able to cancel the transaction?” I asked weakly, as I saw an approaching traffic light turn red.

“Yes madam. We will cancel the transaction, as you have confirmed it is fraudulent. You will receive a full refund.”

I was still ten minutes away from my house and was thinking of ways, to keep Jordan engaged, when he said in a quiet voice. “May I ask you a personal question, madam?”

“Yes, yes please go ahead,” I said eagerly.

“Are you from India?”

“Yes, I am.”

Jordan spoke in an authentic Indian accent, so his question did not come as a surprise to me. I heard a giggle at the other end of the line. “Ma’am, it is all scam.”

“What do you mean, it is all scam?”

“There is nothing wrong with your BuyOnline account. I realized you were Indian and felt bad.”

“What do you mean you felt bad?”

“Madam, this call itself is a fraud.” Another chuckle.

I decided to play along. “Oh, is it? You have no idea how relieved I am.” I thanked Jordan profusely in a native tongue I knew he would understand.

Jordan felt the need to explain himself. “You know, as this is pandemic, I got this job. I don’t like it, but at least I get to improve my English-speaking skills.”

I was speechless. I turned my car around, to make my way back to the diner.

“What is your name?” He inquired.

I let him know. His name was Kabir.

“What are you doing there in the States?”

“Oh, you know, here for a job, don’t know how long it will last though” I said wearily.

“Are you in Ohio?”

“Oh no, no. I am in Pennsylvania.”

“Ok. Please drive back home safely.”

“Ok.”

I held my breath as I waited for him to break the connection.

There was a three second silence, before he said, “I don’t feel like hanging up.”

“Me neith…”