scammer

I Almost Gave a Scammer $2,000 Just to Fix My Website

,

How Google Sites and a fake tech support scammer almost ended this tired old guy’s website in disaster.

I’ve always thought I was too smart to fall for an internet scammer. I don’t click on links from Nigerian princes. I ignore free cruise pop-ups. I never give out my passwords.

scammer

But last week, I nearly handed over everything — because I just wanted help with my website.

It started when my site — the free one you get with Gmail — glitched. I Googled “Google Sites support phone number 24/7” and clicked the first real-looking result. It gave me two numbers.

The first one was a robotic maze of menus — press 1, press 4, start over. No human. No help.

Then I tried the second number: (650) 661‑0004.

A real person answered. Samuel.

He sounded calm and professional — the kind of voice you trust. He said he was with Google. He said the issue was common. He said he could fix it. All I had to do was download a secure screen-sharing tool.

I was tired. Frustrated. I downloaded it.

That was my first mistake.

He took control of my computer. The cursor started moving on its own.

Then came the scare tactics.

“Someone accessed your site from Saudi Arabia,” he said.
“You’ve got over 200 hacking backlinks.”
“Your email is infected. Data errors all over your system.”
“This could spread through your whole house.”

He opened something called “Security Calculator” — a gray box full of blinking lights and fake math. It beeped like a prop from Star Trek. I half expected it to say, “Captain, we’re detecting ransomware at warp speed.”

Then came the pitch:

$11.50 per backlink.
$73.29 for the breach.
$89.46 for data repair.
“Email cleanup” would be free — like it was a favor.

Total? Over $2,000.

I told him I was an old guy on an old computer, not sure any of it was worth fixing. I joked about throwing it off a cliff.

He didn’t laugh.

“They’ve got your IP,” he said. “Your home network’s already compromised.”

If I didn’t act now, he warned, the costs would rise — and I could be held responsible for future attacks. He mentioned banks. Hospitals. Child exploitation. Even the FBI.

He had my screen. He had my attention.

But something in me paused. I told him I needed to speak to my daughter.

He pushed back. “This is urgent,” he said. “You’re already at risk.”

I said I didn’t have that kind of money.

He offered payment plans. “No charge until it’s fixed,” he said.

I slammed my laptop shut.

Heart racing, I sat in the dark and unplugged the router. For a second, I thought maybe I’d triggered some attack on a children’s hospital in Ohio.

And worst of all — I had to tell my wife. (She runs the world. Luckily, I don’t bank online. Never trusted that stuff. Never will.)

She shut her laptop. I called my daughter. We locked down every device like it was DEFCON 1.

My daughter and son-in-law are both tech professionals. They didn’t even blink. “Scammer,” they said.

“There’s no such thing as Google phone support.” “Never screen-share unless it’s from the actual website.”

I felt like a fool. But I was lucky.

No credit cards shared.
No wire transfers.
No online banking.
Just a bruised ego and a frozen router.

I wasn’t just embarrassed. I was pissed.

I imagined a crew of old construction guys like me showing up at that scam center with boomboxes, Black Sabbath, and a flamethrower. I wanted justice. I wanted revenge.

There are more stories — phony Apple reps, fake IRS calls, “you’ve won a cruise.” I’ll get to those next: Otto vs. the Spammers.

But if you ever hear from Samuel? Tell him to watch The Beekeeper. Then hang up.

Otto Controle
Latest posts by Otto Controle (see all)
Share
Share