Fraudulent Dealings

Twelve days before Christmas, I clicked on a link,
and entered my card for a really cheap mink.

As soon as I did it, I felt cold despair,
checking the address, I gave a loud swear.

Not over to Amazon’s site had I gone,
but a sly, cloned imposter called Amazonon.

More rapid than an eagle, to my iPhone I flew,
was put on a hold and proceeded to stew.

When finally a bored-sounding voice said “hello”,
I pleaded and whimpered and tried not to blow.

“Can’t help you,” he said, his voice sounding airy.
“No protection elected. That’s really quite scary.”

“But please sir, there must be something to do?”
“I’m sorry, young madam, I haven’t a clue.”

I hung up the phone, and then puckered my lips
to keep from more cursing and just come to grips.

I pondered, then googled the name of the shop
and found a phone number right up at the top.

Calling the vendor, I found with delight
they answered, first ring, even now at night!

To the man I explained the small error I’d made.
He laughed when he heard me, had I just been played?

But much to my thankful relief, he then offered
To give me a refund. I took what was proffered.

On Christmas, my phone dinged with lyric panache,
Smiling, I read it. I now had my cash.

Contest: Writer's Cramp
Prompt: Write a story or poem about dealing with a fraud issue on a credit card.
26 lines