Yesterday on our home answering machine, we received a message to call American Express on an important, time-sensitive matter. We should respond in 24 hours, the male recorded voice said, and left a name, John Buda.

I thought the message was weird — why would American Express call and leave a recorded message like so many politicians before the election? Shouldn’t it have been a real person? Also, I thought it odd that the voice didn’t identify what business line of American Express, like credit card services, or brokerage services, etc. It seemed so vague.

At first I was going to ignore it. But then my curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to know what would happen if I called.

So I did.

The line rang, and a recorded voice came on, You’ve reached American Express. Your call is important to us, please hold. The female voice greeting sounded pretty real, although I still wasn’t buying it. By this time I had a little ego investment in proving myself right.

Then a man answered the phone and asked how he could help me. I explained that I had received a phone message that I thought was suspicious. He said, “Suspicious? Who was it from, John Buda?” I said yes, and he said, “I assure you it’s legitimate. Can I get your account number please?”

I said no. I wasn’t going to give my account number until I was sure the call was legitimate. Why would American Express leave a prerecorded message on my answering machine, I asked. He answered, “Because it’s American Express.”

Okay, I wasn’t buying it.

Then he said that American Express was doing an update, and he needed my credit card number. Again I refused. He then asked for my telephone number and I decided that that was a pretty safe bet — after all, he called me. So I gave my number and he asked if my name was Rita Curao. i said no. Then he said that obviously their records were incomplete and inaccurate and they wouldn’t be able to get to the bottom of it unless I gave them my credit card number. Again I refused. Then he asked for my name. I decided I wouldn’t do that, either.

He said that there was clearly an error in my record and that in order to fix it he would need more information from me. I had to admit that the guy was pretty good, I was beginning to worry that my hunch was just paranoia. I told him I wasn’t going to answer any more questions, and he grew silent on his end of the line. I sensed disapprobation. This usually works — I don’t like to disappoint! It was a clever pressure tactic. But because I was pretty sure by this point that I didn’t trust him I said, “I’m hanging up. I don’t trust you.”

Then I decided to call American Express myself. What a frustrating experience! I called the fraud protection number you’re supposed to call if your card is lost or stolen. I was disconnected by the recording three times in a row.

Then I called the number printed on the back of my card. I explained the situation and the customer service guy looked up my record. He said there was no notation anywhere that AmEx was going to contact me about any of my accounts — and that they always record their communications with cardholders. He told me to ignore the call and asked if there was anything else he could help me with today. I said, Yes, don’t you think I should report this to someone? It sounds like a scam to me!

He didn’t seem to care! But, after a moment he gave me the “risk management” number. After a few more clicks, I got a real person. Again I explained my situation and she checked and repeated what the first guy said, that there was no recording of a communication between AmEx and me. So I gave her the 866 number that I spoke to the scammer guy on. She checked and said she could not verify that number as an American Express number.

Then she put me on hold and called that number herself. She returned to tell that she suspected a scam, too, because the guy repeatedly tried to pry an account number out of her.

So, that’s the end of my tale. She said she was going to start an investigation and if they discovered fraud, they would call to let me know.

I’m not holding my breath!

But I’m feeling a little more like a consumer crusader, and less like a paranoid freak!