By far the longest set-up for a Letter with no Reply. Isn't it exciting???
Somewhere between my Voices of Venus set, sending off Destiny's Fall to my editor, finishing a short story for an anthology and doing all the fun holidays prep, my brain blew up. It really did. In the past few days, I lost my lunch (I found it behind my door, under my coat. It wasn't very good anymore, which made me sad), I lost my credit card several times (last time Roomy found it on the bathroom counter. Um, what type of transactions am I doing in there, anyway?), and I managed to get locked out of Facebook.
Like, so locked out they requested I send them a scan of a government-issued ID. Awesome.
It started with me looking to contact someone which I knew was on Facebook. I tried logging in (which I do every day, at least once a day), and for some reason I kept entering the wrong password. The neurons weren't firing right.
So Facebook got pissed off with me and asked that I provide them a cell number so they could text me a code to use to reactivate my account. I'm thinking "great security, give you a random cell number..." It's like those credit cards you just tap on the machine instead of entering a code - oh yes, great chip security. But I digress. I'm fine with that, since I apparently keep my credit card in the safety of my bathroom.
Anyway, I enter my cell number and I enthusiastically grab my cell phone and wait. And wait. And wait some more. Hu. No text. I enter it again. No text still. I enter it again, and again, and again... it was becoming rather obsessive, like hitting the elevator button again and again and again as though it'll make it go faster. Which it doesn't, by the way. I've tried.
My impatience was rewarded by getting a notice I had been locked out, because my identity was in question. I don't blame them. At this point, I too was questioning at least my sanity, parts of my identity, and if perhaps I'd had too much caffeine that day.
Then I realized I had the person's phone number and didn't need to be on Facebook anyway. Sigh.
Regardless, I needed to reactivate my account to partake of the wit and charm of my 700+ friends (and yes, they're absolutely all witty and charming. Except that guy. You know who you are...)
This is the letter I received from them:
Sent: Monday, December 19, 2011 7:16 PM
To: Marie Bilodeau
Subject: Security Concern
You were asked to confirm who you are because our security systems thought you may not be using your real identity with this account or that you may have multiple accounts. If you’ve already tried to log in at www.facebook.com and followed the instructions to confirm your identity, but weren’t able to complete the process, we’ll need to see other proof of your identity.
Here’s how to proceed:
1. Use a scanner or take a digital photo of a government-issued photo ID (such as a driver’s license or passport), which shows your full first and last name and date of birth.
2. Reply directly to this email and attach the image of your ID to the message.
3. We will confirm that your ID and account information match. As soon as we verify your identity we’ll delete the image of your ID.
Please send an image showing proper identification right away so we can help you get back into your Facebook account. Please note that we will not be able to process your request unless you have submitted the proper identification. Additionally, not submitting proper identification will result in your request being denied.
We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused.
If you have any further questions about this process, please visit our Help Center at the following address: ***
Thank you for your patience,
The Facebook Team
Dear Facebook Team,
Please find attached my driver's licence as proof of identity, as well a picture collage as proof that I understand I was being an impatient idiot, which is what got me locked out of my account.
All the best,
I suppose technically I DID receive a reply - my account was reactivated. I like to think that, somewhere in Facebook-land, an under-appreciated customer service rep got a chuckle, or at least felt better about their situation in life. He or she may be under-appreciated and underpaid, but at least, I'm sure, they have the smarts to remember a simple password, the patience not to get locked out of their own accounts, and the grace to deal with idiots who get locked out of their accounts, then decide it'd be hilarious to include a photo collage with their photo ID.
In the meantime, I'm getting ready to crawl under a rock and spare the world from my ever-increasing confusion/stupidity/questionable thought patterns. Well, not really a rock. It'd be cold and uncomfortable. Rather, I'm getting ready to get lots of writing done over the holidays and enjoy many fine and fatty foods. That's better than a rock, I say!