I knew it was a check before I opened the envelope. Peeking from behind the window, which revealed my name and address, was the telltale “check” paper.
I tore open the envelope, noted the check amount and dreamed of what I could do with the money. I set it aside to eat dinner. As the high from an unexpected monetary windfall subsided, I recovered my senses.
First of all, why would the U.S. Treasury issue me a refund in a higher amount than what I’d just paid in back taxes? Thirdly, why did they send me a check instead of issuing the refund via direct deposit like all my other refund “checks”?
I’d planned to deposit the check via my mobile app after dinner. Instead, I researched how to tell if a check is fraudulent. While doing so, I learned that one popular scam was to mail a fake U.S. Treasury check, then the IRS con artist calls up the recipient, telling them that the U.S. Treasury had made a mistake. At that point, the recipient has to refund the “U.S. Treasury” the money. The way the con works is that the scammer has to contact the recipient before the check “clears,” which it won’t because it’s fake to begin with.
Here’s what I didn’t understand: how do the con artists know when the check has been deposited? After all, to call before the recipient has deposited it won’t work. Also, waiting too late to call, the recipient would know that the check is fake. How does the con artist know where the sweet spot is?
The check stated that it was good for a year, which meant I had no urgency to deposit it. As a matter of fact, I looked up the number for the IRS, so I can give them a call on my day off. If there was a slim chance that that thing was real, I wanted confirmation. Plus, I could go to my bank one Saturday, and have them verify the check.
In the meantime, I practiced in my head what I’d say to the scammer if they called. Every suspicious call that came in since receiving that check made me wonder if it was the scammer calling. No one left a message. They called while I was at work, so I didn’t answer nor call back.
Trying to talk to a live person at the IRS, was more challenging than seeing the Wizard of Oz without Dororthy’s companions. Out of frustration, I called the number on the back of the envelope. The woman provided me the number for the Department of the US Treasury in Kansas City. When I called the number, a man answered who didn’t bother to ask any HIPAA questions when I said I wanted tto verify if a check was real.
He directed my attention to the QR code in the upper right-hand corner. Beneath the QR code was a number, which I recited to him. He told me the amount of the check and stated that it was real.
In that moment, I thought, “Yeah, right.” So I call the number on the back of the envelope in which the check came and suddenly, I talk not to one, but two live people and the check was real. Well, at least I kept a cool head, noting that after breakfast, the bank would be open and I could open an account with that check. If anything funny happened after I deposited the check, at least it wouldn’t fuck up my money.
I asked the bank employee who stood near the door if she were the manager. She wasn’t, but asked how she could help. I explained my situation. She agreed that I could open a new account. Or, one of the tellers could verify the check.
Once the teller typed in all the check information, she turned the monitor to me, showing me the green check.
After all that shaky shit, the check was real. I went ahead and deposited it, telling all who were listening to my story that they were my witnesses.
Even so, it’ll take me a while to feel okay about letting my balance dip below a certain amount just in case.