I made a mistake using an online payment center, and there is not one human being on earth who can help me. Here’s my latest story of imperfection:
My friend Connie McLeod in Louisiana creates unique and gorgeous pillowcases by “hammering” fresh flora onto cotton fabric. Through the process, pigments from the leaves and flowers transfer to the fabric as a stain. Last week, she posted photos on Facebook of her latest examples which included hempweed vine, vinca, cosmos, and oxalis from her garden.
I ordered two pillowcases at $75 each, and she sent me her Venmo account name.
Unfortunately, I sent the money to a person with a similar name – but not Connie. (Yes, I know this mess is all my fault, but the comedy of errors makes a good story.)
After realizing the mistake, Connie and I spent time and energy contacting Venmo to make corrections. Venmo does not respond to humans, even after calling, texting, and emailing the support team several times.
I sent $150 to Connie at the correct address on Venmo.
Because Venmo didn’t help, I canceled the incorrect payment through my bank account that is attached to Venmo and received a $20 charge to cancel the check. My bank took the fee but did not cancel the payment.
Then, for reasons known only to mischievous trolls inside Venmo operations, they decided to pay both addresses again for another charge of $300. I tried for hours to explain the facts to Venmo through email, phone calls, and text messages.
Their support team said I could pay $5 for expert advice from an online source called “JustAnswer Team.” I paid $5 and discovered I had signed up for membership to a law firm that would charge me $55 a month. I had a few days to cancel, so I waited for the legal team to give me advice. They provided a form letter I could send to Venmo. I could have written the form letter myself. I cancelled the membership fee.
Now I cannot log into my Venmo account because it’s frozen unless I pay their extortion of $300. They will not take a smaller amount.
I can fly roundtrip from Boise to Baton Rouge, Louisiana for $600. My pillowcases are now at $625:
$150 – sent to wrong account
$150 – sent to correct account
$300 – extortion from Venmo to unfreeze my account
$ 20 – cancel check fee
$ 5 – Legal answer with potential $55 a month membership fee
I sent the expertly worded form letter to Venmo and am waiting for a robot to reply with the same answer: “Please contact our support team.”
There is one positive sparkle to this dark journey: I frantically sent a message to the “wrong” person and explained my mistake. She graciously returned the $150, so technically the current expenses are only $475.
I’m cautiously optimistic the pillowcases will arrive this week. I need them to cover some pillows so I can take a long nap.
Gratuitous plug: Besides pillowcases, Connie also creates other treasures, including note cards and framed art. Follow her on Facebook and Instagram. Her email is: [email protected]. Please notice: her name is Connie McLeod – not Connie McCloud.
