ID theft stirs night of new passwords

AS A RULE, Digital Slobs value our privacy. Some of us tint the windows of our cars just so we can pick our noses as we commute without being spotted by someone we know, though most of us would never go to such lengths. The rest of us prefer to just move to a metropolitan area of 250,000 people or more and take our chances in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

But in the Digital Age, there really is nowhere to hide our business from the prying eyes of highly motivated identity thieves.

The only reason you don't know my Social Security number, and the only reason I don't know yours, is because we're too lazy to get on the Web and hunt them down.

Recently, I got an e-mail from a would-be buyer on eBay. Since no one had met my reserve price for the 55-inch Hitachi plasma TV I had up for auction, he was wondering if I'd consider selling it to him for $1,800. A reasonable request, but I was a bit sidetracked by the fact that I didn't have a 55-inch Hitachi plasma TV for sale, nor any clue what he was talking about.

I logged on to my eBay account, and behold! I WAS selling a 55-inch Hitachi plasma TV that I didn't have, which is very unlike me -- and since there is no history of schizophrenia in my side of the family, "me" is pretty much all I'm working with here.

As fast as my typing skills would allow, I canceled the auction and changed passwords on my eBay, Hotmail and PayPal accounts. Then I called VISA and Discover to see if my credit debt had suddenly plunged into critical condition from its usual serious, but stable, condition.

Thankfully, my IOUs were not yet in the ICU.

Then I darted my eyes back and forth for about 10 minutes. Then I stopped. Then I pulled my spare house key out from under a small rock at my front door and placed it under a big rock at my back door. Then I counted my blessings -- all the way up to 17. Then I went to Burger King for some much-needed comfort food.

As soon as I got back, I reported the incident to eBay's Security & Resolution Center, which promptly secured the situation by resolving that I was the criminal returning to the scene of my crime, and canceled my eBay account "forever."

This "blame the victim" vibe kept echoing from eBay's giant brain even after three attempts to instant-message my side of the story to its live online help agents. I considered dropping it, but the "forever" thing bugged me. I thought, "What if 10 years from now I move into my dream home at 3 a.m. and need a whole family of ceramic garden gnomes, like, yesterday?"

Nope, I wasn't taking the rap for this one. I already have an in-law who is forever banned from Sears for reasons I'd just assume keep private. I'd like to keep them private, but since they're part of the public record, every seedy detail of the incident is available online for whoever cares to look.

Regardless, when eBay finally takes over the world, you don't want to be on the outside of a Global Dutch Auction Economy looking in, so I kept at it. Eventually, someone inside the belly of the eBeast admitted me back into the welcoming arms of my fellow buyers and sellers.

It's good to be back. Now, is anyone auctioning tinted windows for the Internet?

Curt Brandao is the Star-Bulletin's production editor. Reach him at cbrandao@starbulletin.com. See also: www.digitalslob.com