(aka: The Audacity Olympics)
There’s a special kind of betrayal that only hits when a chargeback email lands in your inbox.
You’re sipping your water, minding your business, living your semi-peaceful customer service life — and then bam:
“A dispute has been filed for Order #14086.”
The audacity.
The unmitigated gall.
The nerve of it all.
Because 99.9% of the time… we both know what really happened.
You didn’t reach out.
You didn’t email.
You didn’t call, text, carrier-pigeon, nothing.
You just woke up one morning, looked at your perfectly delivered order,
and said, “You know what? I’m feeling froggy today.”
And now here we are — me, building a 37-page evidence packet like I’m prepping for trial at the Supreme Court of Chargeback Appeals.
Screenshots, tracking numbers, delivery confirmation, the timestamped “thank you!” email you sent the day it arrived — all neatly arranged in my digital crime folder.
And for what?
Because you “don’t recognize this charge”?
Ma’am, you spelled your own name wrong when you placed the order. That’s on you.
The chargeback process is a full-body experience.
You go through all five stages of grief in about 12 minutes:
- Denial: Maybe it’s a mistake.
- Anger: Nope. It’s Fraudulent Fannie again.
- Bargaining: Maybe the bank will see the truth.
- Depression: They won’t.
- Acceptance: Time to make another evidence PDF, toots.
By the time I’m done, I’ve included so much proof even CSI: Shopify would applaud.
And yet somehow… the bank still sides with the customer who said,
“Item never arrived.”
Meanwhile, the tracking says DELIVERED. FRONT PORCH. PHOTO ATTACHED.
Make it make sense.
It’s not just a refund — it’s a personal attack.
It’s emotional damage with paperwork.
So now, whenever a new chargeback hits, I don’t even flinch.
I just crack my knuckles, open my screenshots folder, and whisper,
“Let’s gooooooooooooo!”
Because at this point, it’s not just business — it’s spiritual combat.
And if being petty and precise is wrong,
then bay-beee, I don’t wanna be right. Mmmm hmmm.

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