A Letter To The Person Who Stole My Debit Card Info
Dear Douchebag Fuckface,
I didn't know how to contact you via conventional means, so I figured I'd use the reach of Cracked and hope that fate allows this letter to reach you. I wanted to thank you for stealing my debit card information last week. Not ironically or sarcastically. I'm offering a genuine gesture of gratitude for reminding me of some valuable lessons about life that I've had boxed away in the attic of my mind for years.
Thank you for reminding me that some people are just outright cocksuckers to their very core; their only reason for existence being to gratify themselves no matter the consequence to them or others. Some people are just walking masturbation -- you, being a living embodiment of a semen-covered fist, desperately need porn in the form of other people's hard work.
Thank you for reminding me that some people value $300 worth of PlayStation games more than they value a fellow human's ability to eat. Yes, I'm in a position now where I could handle the three days it took to correct the loss of money. Seven years ago, I would have legitimately not been able to feed my children because of your desperate need to pretend-shoot cartoon characters with your "friends."
Thank you for reminding me that there are some people out there who don't have the talent or ability to get a good job and pay for their own games. That their only means of obtaining joy is to steal it from others, regardless of whether or not that theft will result in their eviction for not having rent money.
But most of all, I want to thank you for teaching me how this whole process works. See, before you decided to spend $300 of my family's money on nothing but PS4 games, I didn't know that both PlayStation and my bank would work together to trace the purchases. I didn't realize that the money would be credited back to me, and PlayStation would lock down the offending user's account. I didn't know that my bank would continue to press the issue until charges were filed. And I definitely didn't realize that the money would be charged back to you once all of the information was in place. But I know now.
That's the great thing about digital games: You have to have an internet connection in order to get them. And if you have an internet connection, you have an internet provider. Well ... had. See, that's the other thing the bank does: they report the identity theft and actual monetary theft to them. Without you stealing my shit, I never would have known. Thank you for that. I'm a big fan of learning.
And finally, thank you for reminding me just how much I love to tell assholes to go fuck themselves. It's a guilty pleasure, I know, but I sincerely love telling someone to suck a dick until they die of dick poisoning. Or threatening to punch them fuckless. I gotta tell you that I'm half hard right now, hoping that you're a teenager so your parents have to deal with the shitstorm of paperwork, police reports, and finding another internet provider. I shouldn't love that so much, but hey ... dopamine, right?
Anyway, I'll let you go. I know you're probably busy trying to find someone else to fuck over so you can temporarily escape the cold, cruel world. I need to get a break from that, myself. I think I'll go look through the games you bought and use that as a recommendation list. You may be someone's abortion motivation, but you might have good taste in games. Who knows? I'm hoping. That would at least give you some sort of purpose in life, if even for a few minutes.
Thanks!
-John Cheese
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