By Hannah Reich Berman

Most people have a meltdown only when faced with a serious issue. This does not describe me. I am an equal-opportunity-meltdown type who has been known to have one when facing something as simple as computer trouble.

Once again, I recently ran into trouble. While I was glancing at some Facebook postings, the following message popped up: THIS COMPUTER HAS BEEN BLOCKED. Those five troubling words appeared in a large new window that all but blocked out everything else on the screen. Gulping hard, I knew instinctively that I was in for a long siege. And I was right!

The dreaded message informed me that I had malware, spyware, and a host of other “wares,” all of which I assumed meant trouble. The message also instructed me not to attempt to exit out of the window. That message was unnecessary because, no matter how many times I clicked on the X to exit, I could not eliminate that window. Nor could I do anything else. So I foolishly called the phone number provided in the message. Only later did I learn that any time one is asked to call a number, it is a scam.

Before making that call, I phoned my computer guru, Lester Katz, to ask him if he thought the message was a scam. Lester gets me out of trouble on a regular basis. But it was mid-morning and Lester was at work. This was a Friday in December and Shabbos started very early, so I knew it was unlikely I would hear back from him that day. When I cannot reach Lester, I normally call my son Robby to ask him if something sounds like a scam. But, as Robby lives in Israel, the seven-hour time difference meant that Shabbos had already begun for him.

Now I was in serious trouble. As sometimes happens when left to my own devices, I got into a mess; I called the number provided in the message. For some reason, it did not occur to me that when one is unable to exit a computer by clicking on the X, all he has to do is shut the computer down manually–or unplug it! But as usual, I overthought the situation. If only I had remembered what Hubby always said: “Hannah, it is incredible how the most practical solutions never occur to you.”

The “technician” who answered my call informed me that my computer was infected and that I had no virus protection–not even a firewall. Ashamed to acknowledge that I did not know exactly what a firewall is, I listened to the spiel. The man said there were multiple viruses on my computer along with thousands of corrupt files. Panic set in and now I was all ears. I forgot that Lester had once explained that I had total virus protection. In my full-blown panic, not only did I allow the person on the phone to “sell” me protection, I also gave him access to my computer.

The saddest part of my experience is that the entire time I was on the phone, I sensed that I was doing the wrong thing. Yet, having entered into something like a fugue state, I kept right on doing it–giving personal information to this stranger who had scared me into thinking that if I did not do as he suggested, I would lose everything stored on my computer. Because fear had wreaked havoc on me, I agreed to purchase the virus protection he was offering for $299.99. Following his advice, I revealed the name of my bank, the routing number, and a check number. He said that the protection I was purchasing would be good for five years, which, being less than a hundred smackers a year, sounded like a bargain to me. And I do love a bargain. Looking back on it and seeing it here in print, I am amazed at what I did. This was exceptional even for me.

On Saturday evening, Lester returned my call. I took a deep breath, told him what had happened, and waited for his response. I wanted to hear the following words: “It’s OK, Hannah. Relax! No scam here. You did the right thing.” But what I heard was an intake of breath followed by total silence. Lester was probably choking in disbelief. When he found his voice, he assured me that this was indeed a scam and that he was coming right over to my house to attempt to undo all the damage. Kindness prevented him from mentioning my naiveté.

He went to work righting all the wrongs to which I had exposed my computer. Together, we changed all my passwords and then he removed all the junk that this guy had installed into my computer. Lester directed me to immediately call and cancel my credit card and to call the fraud-protection department of my bank. In my panic, I had given the scammer access to every file in my computer. I also gave him my bank account information and everything he needed to create a computer-generated check. (I had no idea there was such a thing as a computer-generated check.) It took time, but Lester cleared up everything that he possibly could and then checked my online bank account and saw that no check had been posted. But as only one day had passed, I was not out of danger.

On Monday, I went into my bank and poured out my embarrassing story to the bank manager. It took time, but she was able to help me, and fortunately it was eventually all sorted out. The contact phone number in the on-screen message was a non-working number. Money had been taken from my account that very morning, but a copy of the computer-generated check appeared on the screen and contained a different phone number. This one was a working number and I was able to reach someone who helped me. Two days later I received a refund and my new “virus protection” was removed. What had happened was less of a scam than it might have been. These people were not using my information to steal from me. They were only interested in getting me to buy virus protection–protection I did not need.

When my new credit card arrived, I had to call every company that accepts electronic payment from me, and give them my new card number. It was time-consuming, but it could have been so much worse. That’s the way it is.

Hannah Berman lives in Woodmere and gives private small-group lessons in mah-jongg and canasta. She can be reached at Savtahannah@aol.com or 516-902-3733.

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