I’m still dealing with the aftermath of our computer hard drive failing over a week ago. I had to order a new copy of our financial software and it didn’t come in until Friday. We did our town thing yesterday in order to pay a visit to the bank since I’d gotten a check we were waiting for so we’re home today messing around. And yes, messing around is really the only way to describe it.
I am one of those people who likes to bank online. If I can pay a bill online – and see that it went through as well as not have to do business with the USPS – I am a very happy camper. I also like to reconcile my accounts weekly (I know, nerd alert) so that I know where we’re at on things. Apparently I had backed up my data for my financial software about two weeks before the hard drive crashed, and of course life has continued on since then. So I’ve been reconciling…
…and getting really peeved at how banks do security online. It seems that if you log into your account from a different computer, just knowing your password is not enough. No, you have to answer all these security questions.
Questions like What was your maternal grandfather’s first name? Okay, it’s a joint account. Whose grandfather’s name did I use? And how did I spell it when I answered the question originally?
Or What is the last name of your favorite teacher your senior year of high school? Clearly, I gave them the answer to the question at some point, but I really have no idea which teacher I would have said. If you answered that question today, would you know what answer you gave four weeks from now? I might have remembered my least favorite teacher my senior year of high school, but that’s not what they asked.
One company must have gone through my husbands credit report and picked out street names from previous reported addresses. Well, I have known my husband for six and a half years, and none of the street names they listed sounded familiar to me. What I wanted to do was ask them a few questions to see how well they knew him…like What color of underwear did he wear last Tuesday? Like, we could have a contest to see who could think of the most idiotic questions, no? [For the record, I don’t think either of us would have a chance at answering the question about the underwear.]
If you don’t know the answer to one question, they can’t ask an alternate. Nope. You’re stuck. So perhaps I should write down the questions and answers for each account for future reference. Then someone could break into our house, get that information, and steal our identity. Hurray for security questions! [For the record, none of our passwords are written down in their entirety or entered into our computer anywhere.]
But no, they would ask these dumb questions, and I would get locked out because I didn’t know the answer. Ugh! So I would have to call Steve, tell him what I was trying to do, have him call in, then he had to call me back…though when he called in, since he has a masculine voice and I don’t (ironically), they only ask him the basic questions, all of which I had answered correctly. They didn’t ask him stuff like What color was the carpet in your first apartment? or anything like that.
I mean, I’m glad we have security and all. But there comes a point when you can ask questions that are so obscure, even the real person will not be able to answer them correctly. Really. And when you answer the questions initially, yes, they do give you a choice as to which ones to answer. But sometimes it’s a choice between bad questions and really bad questions…which should explain my inability to recite the answers that I once upon a time supplied.
Who was my favorite teacher my senior year of high school anyway?