Scammer Scumbags Stole My Rent Money After Promising Me A Job

But at least they didn’t fleece me out of $96,000, like they did one other unsuspecting mark.

I have always hated the saying, “If it seems too good to be true, it probably is,” because I try to be a glass-half-full kinda girl. So over the summer when someone reached out to me by email to offer me a job as a virtual assistant, I was willing to give it a shot.

By this time, I had been out of work for six months; nothing was going on but the rent! Yes, I had some stashed cash, but I was hoping this job would give me some extra buffer.

The process of applying, being accepted, and being hired transpired so fast, that I didn’t take the time I should have to step back and think about what was happening. I was just so eager to earn a paycheck–and it was that desperation that was my downfall.

This is how the whole sordid charade went down, as in, this was the actual email trail: 

At this point, I replied and attached my resume. Then I received this message (please excuse the janky cut-and-paste issues):

After I did some Google research to make sure that Tania Rahman is an actual person at Valnet (she is, but she probably has no idea that someone has stolen her identity), I responded to her questions. I made the cut (and should’ve known that it would never be THAT easy, but I was hopeful). Then I received this email:

What followed next was a full half day of waiting for the FedEx to come. My first clue should have been that the return address on the FedEx package was unrecognizable to me. It did not say Valnet. 

But once I saw the check, I thought it looked pretty legit:

I was so happy to see a check with my name on it, I forgot ask myself why it was from a tile shop-duh.

I did wonder why the check came from Florida– and from a stone and tile vendor, no less– but I was able to deposit it right away. And the check cleared by that Friday morning.

Here’s where it got really funky: I had to start sending the money to various “vendors” who were supposed to send me the office equipment.

I had to go to a Smoke Shop to find this ATM machine—it kinda creeped me out, which should have been my first clue.

To spare you some minutiae, I didn’t include all of the Venmo transfers I did. But you get the drift. All in all, the Venmo payments added up to about $2072. 

Now, about that Bitcoin: Once these jokers realized I had maxed out my daily Venmo limit, they flipped the script and asked me to send the rest of the money, minus my $500 signing bonus, in Bitcoin. I know nothing about Bitcoin. So they sent me a link about how to find a Bitcoin ATM. 

I withdrew another $2000 cash from my personal bank account, then searched for a Bitcoin ATM, which I finally found at a nearby smoke shop. Tania then walked me through the process of turning the cash into Bitcoin via text.

This was my first time buying bitcoin—and it will definitely be my last.

By the following Monday, my account had been emptied. They had rescinded the check they had sent me, and I now had a negative balance. And did I mention that my rent was due in a few days?!?!

I was a distraught hot mess for about a day and a half. I had several crying jags, and canceled meetings like the one I was supposed to have with Jane during this time to discuss AJPT launch plans.

Then I got angry.

I went to my bank and reported these grifters for cyber fraud. I disputed the Venmo charges, then put my old checking account on hold and opened a new one. Do you know how disruptive it is to have to change account information attached to a debit card that is linked to a kajillion automatic payments that only recognize your old account number and have no clue about the new one?! I spent whole days updating my payment information to bring everything up to date. And it really pissed me off.

Since I was already on the warpath, I filed a complaint with the FBI cybercrime fraud unit (https://www.ic3.gov/)

I also filed a complaint with the SEC.

I called the company whose name was on the check, and learned that they had also filed a complaint with the FBI because they had no idea how these scammers had gotten ahold of their check, and with their treasurer’s signature on it. The woman on the phone (I think her name was Janet) told me they had received SO many calls just like mine–one poor guy had been scammed out of $96K! 

My last move was to send a nasty text message to the woman–whoever she really was–who initiated the whole debacle. I told her I was going to hunt her down so that she never does this to anyone else. 

The end result? I couldn’t get the cash back, but I did have all of my Venmo transactions refunded to me by the bank. That gave me some comfort.

I never thought this could happen to me. And now I understand that old adage about things that seem too good to be true. I let my vulnerability get the best of me. It won’t happen again.