Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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I was Scammed Out of Thousands of Dollars

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cheating closing agent

I graduated from college at age 21 with Phi Beta Kappa scholastic honors because I’m smarter than a fifth grader. Last week I was scammed out of $6,280 and received a bonus bill for $15,575 plus a lien on my property because my brains left the country along with my money.

I’m writing about my stupidity so other charming but gullible grandmothers can avoid my errors. I will include the names, telephone numbers, emails, and business names of those who scammed me. My factual words are my only revenge.

The debacle started last month when I decided to sell my Shell Vacations Club timeshare. I searched online, found a company with a professional website and glowing credentials, and sent an email. Unfortunately, the business is a scam and the credentials are bogus. Apparently, any lying crook with a dirty computer can set up a website and write positive reviews.

Here are two of the rotten scoundrels who cheated me out of $6,280. Christian Becker lies to people from Property Management Interactions, (773) 409-4913, extension 8857. The email is [email protected]. Emma Watson cackles at the corrupt title company called Alliance Resource Advisors, (469) 729-4903 in Dallas, Texas. The email is [email protected]. Only later did I notice she spelled her title “Exectutive Closing Agent.” I deserve this punishment.

Three different crooks contacted me from Property Management Interactions. The first, Adrian Martinez, suddenly disappeared in a mysterious motorcycle crash after he discovered I owned the timeshare free and clear. Then Christian Becker sold me the equivalent of a bridge in Brooklyn. After I complained, Christian was banished on an unexplained leave of absence only to be replaced by Alejandro Corona. I asked him to spell his name so I could include it correctly in this blog. He doesn’t like me, and the feeling is mutual.

scam bank info

Their contract promised a huge payment with no money up front and of course they had an eager buyer. After more than 20 telephone calls, it turned out I owed an initial fee of $6,280. Like a fool, I paid it and the money went to Mexico. Hello, red flag? Then I received the second surprise: another bill for $15,575 to cover Value-Added Tax and a new Registry for Foreign Investment Tax. Also, they put a lien on my property but promised to pay me $84,105. My language in return was less than Christian.

Today at the bank, I learned that the Federal Trade Commission and state consumer protection agencies are working full-time to shut down dishonest timeshare resellers that have bilked timeshare owners out of millions of dollars. This is a club I did not want to join and I’d like to sell or donate my membership. My banker advised me to call the credit reporting agencies to put an alert on my credit report and notify the IRS that my information has been compromised. He warned me that the scammers could sell my information and print counterfeit checks on the frozen account. The bank couldn’t refund my money or cover it through insurance but they did transfer my overdraft protection and bill payment details.

My official police report will be turned over to Interpol to investigate the companies for fraud and extortion. At least there is a silver lining: I never will have the title of Exectutive Closing Agent.

 

 

Midlife Cabernet: Susie Sells Timeshares by the Seashore

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Idaho is a splendid state, but the winters can get long, cold, and dark. The Boise area suffers from the Blanket of Doom, an inversion of low clouds that oppresses and depresses even the most hearty residents. Late January is the perfect time to take a day trip into the mountains or go south before you turn into Jack Nicholson’s character in the movie The Shining.

Just to be safe, I locked up the hatchet and installed sun lights in every room. Then I booked a trip to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. In only five hours we flew from Boise, 25 degrees and snowing, to Cabo, 85 degrees and blue sky. We felt as if we had crawled out of a sad tunnel into a non-stop fiesta, complete with warm sand beneath our bare toes and tangy margaritas in our spray-tanned hands.

At the resort I noticed even more timeshare salespeople than usual. They were everywhere promising a gourmet lunch and tempting us with free activities if we attended a brief meeting. We wanted the free golf passes so we agreed to listen to the latest spiel. Susie, our client relations specialist, could teach corporations how to successfully market and sell any product by using high pressure tactics with a saucy splash of charm. She instantly identified and focused on hot buttons: my jewelry, Studley’s business acumen, our love of family. Still, we didn’t fall for the pitch. We just wanted to golf.

Finally, the manager came over to sweeten the deal. We refused to buy. Other couples were beaten down into signing contracts and so balloons were popped and the room erupted with the sounds of applause. Another middle-aged couple at the next table was starting to fold. I thought Susie was going to cry. She had wasted two hours trying to convince us that buying additional points on our timeshare would bring us everlasting happiness and probably clear the inversion in Boise.

We took our golf passes and slinked out of the room. I started to feel sorry for her, but as we were walking through the lobby to go golf, I saw her with a new targeted couple. She was complimenting the woman on her jewelry.