I got a call yesterday on my work number from some guy claiming to be from Chase. He said he just wanted to see if I had any questions about my accounts. I said, "What accounts?" and he rattled off the different bank accounts I have, joint and otherwise, without using their numbers. He said he would leave his name and number for me to call in case I had any questions. I said no thanks and hung up. I didn't give the guy any information, and I didn’t take his number. I then called Chase to confirm that someone from their company was calling customers in such a manner, and they said yes, because they had had a lot of trouble with their website, so they were calling everyone in the NY area who used online banking to see if they had any questions or issues.

Obviously, I was very relieved to hear that Chase was in fact calling their customers and that this wasn't some scam to get info out of me or for me to call a number that would charge money from me to put into some random con artist's pocket. Because shit like that does happen, and I am always on my guard.

People from the Midwest (which is what I call everywhere except the tri-state area and DC) have called me paranoid and cynical and suspicious, but I just think I'm being cautious. After all, I grew up in NYC, I live in Brooklyn, and I've traveled all over the country and parts of Europe. I've been mugged, my brother's been mugged (with his own baseball bat, no less), and his apartment was broken into. My husband's been mugged, my friend Devin's been mugged twice. Our credit card numbers have been stolen, my parents have had their bank account numbers stolen, I've seen people nearly robbed on the subway, I've been conned out of my money by a supposed real estate agent, etc etc etc. So I think I deserve to be a little cautious.

But it doesn't stop there-- I also get those stupid email forwards: the ones talking about people who get you to call Barbados and charge you hundreds of dollars, or people who ask if you like perfume and steal your car in parking lots, or whatever the scam of the week is. I delete those immediately, not only because most of those stupid stories are bullshit, but because OF COURSE you don't talk to fucking strangers in a parking lot! OF COURSE you don't call some random number you don’t know. OF COURSE you don't give out any personal information over the phone. Fucking DUH! Who are these morons who need fake stories to wake them up to what goes on in the world?

I'll tell you who they are: idiot moron red-staters who have never been to a "Big City" before, who know all their neighbors and call their mailman by his or her first name. Rubes. Hayseeds. Yokels. Children.

Children have to be told not to take candy from strangers, because they're inexperienced and don't know the evils of the world. Same goes for small town dorks who don't know enough not to give out personal information to people pretending to take a survey.

Some people strive to live like that, to get away from the "rat race" of city life, to escape the crowds and crime and congestion, to return to Mayberry and talk to their neighbors across a picket fence. To be able to leave their doors unlocked at night.

Well, I've done that. I moved to a small town in Northern NJ when I was a freshman in high school. No one locked their doors. They left their cars unlocked when they went shopping. The biggest crime in December one year was someone's Christmas tree was stolen from their front yard (probably the result of some sort of clan feud or something). Our mailman's name was Mel. Our neighbors were friendly to us, and one of them once helped me open a stubborn jar of tomato sauce because my folks weren't home.

And you know what?

Living like that freaked me out! I couldn't handle it. We left our backdoor unlocked sometimes because my dog was in the backyard and we'd go out and play with her and feed her (but we always made sure it was locked at night after she came in). One day, a boyfriend of mine just walked right into my house while I was in the shower! I dumped him the next day. He didn't understand what the big deal was, he always walked into his friends' houses. For weeks afterward, I imagined some maniac just walking in the back door and raping or killing me and began locking the door even during the day when the dog was outside. The scariest thing that ever came in after that was a mouse.

Another thing that wigged me out: the streets were completely quiet at night. No sirens, no one walking or driving. Nothing. I hated walking the dog at night, so I took a flashlight with me and whistled or sang. I hated being alone in the house at night, so I turned on every light we had. I felt more unsafe than I ever did in the "big city".

Maybe I am paranoid, and my friends from Michigan and Tennessee and Ohio are right. I'm a paranoid skeptical cynic who doesn't trust anyone or anything, even a quaint small town where everyone knows everyone else and the worst things that happen are holiday ornament theft and a boyfriend walking into your house to say hi.

Maybe I am an elitist New Yorker who has trust issues and is forever looking over her shoulder, who knew where all the "Safe Haven" stickers were on the store windows in her neighborhood and who has been taught strategies to avoid muggers and con artists. I'm a big city snob who thinks innocence is equal to social retardation.

Maybe it's sad that I'm so paranoid. But walls are protection, especially internal ones.





"I always think everything is a trap, which is why I am still alive." – Prince Humperdink