A dump is a code located on the magnetic stripe. Usually the sellers sell track two. That’s the main track that contains the necessary information for making a payment. You also have track one and track three. Track one usually contains the data about the cardholder, his or her name, etc. By the way, the cardholder’s name can be changed to any name you wish. It does not affect the payment process during purchase. Although I’ve heard from some experienced guys that it has happened that it did affect it. Though, in ninety-five out of a hundred cases it just doesn’t matter. Track three is almost never used by banks. If they do use it, they only use it for different kinds of partner programs. For example, you have an Aeroflot Visa card. Well, the third track is used for bonuses you get for flying Aeroflot. So you can safely ignore and not touch track three. Track one you can easily generate using track two, which, as I have said, you can buy from a dump seller. Then you have to apply the dump to the plastic which is what I started doing, though it turned out to be more difficult than just to buy a dump.
The Stick thing was dead to me after my partner disappeared. I could do half the stuff myself, but I did not know how to convert the Stick into Webmoney or cash. It’s now that all kinds of exchange services have developed but for that moment things were a little different. So, I decided to invest my money into the real plastic. I had no money to buy equipment to create credit cards. You had to spill about twenty grand green for that. Where did you go my friend? You disappeared during such a bad time — I thought to myself then. Well, since I had no money to set up my own operation, I decided to use the manufacturing services, fortunately, there were enough of those.
Ten Turkish bank dumps cost me five hundred green. Another five hundred was the card manufacture. One grand total. I had a little less than two left. It made no sense to shop in Russia. First — the credit card payment systems were not that developed yet; second — it was not a fact that the Turkish cards will pass in our country and, the most important thing — never work in Russia! Therefore the decision came by itself — I had to go to Turkey, thankfully I had an international passport.
It did not take much time to gather for the trip.
Turkey was already full of popular resorts for Russian citizens, so all the tour companies would sell tours without any problems and with great enthusiasm. I remembered that I had not been to the sea for a pretty long time already and decided to have a comfortable vacation. This comfort cost me twelve hundred evergreen ones. The other seven hundred I took with me – just in case.
Putting the trip together took me two and a half weeks, during this time I got the ordered cards by mail and, by the end of the aforementioned time I would sit in the airplane seat drinking rum and coke. When you read these lines, I am sure that you don’t understand even one hundredth of the feelings that were overtaking me then. Just imagine. I’m a thief. An international thief. Something like a terrorist. If the flight attendant could read my thoughts then, she would have fainted. All my being shook from inside. It’s not virtual carding anymore, this is a real crime. I wasn’t thinking about being fucking romantic anymore. But I needed money. Oh, did I need them. I wanted this anyway. I wanted to live different. To not be a hired worker who keeps thinking about how to please his boss, but to be free. No, not like that. FREE. Like that.
I would poison my organism with alcohol anyway I could for two and a half hours in the plane. My brain caught a great positive wave and I didn’t feel as scared. I felt scared later…
For the first three days, I would just have fun. I would walk on the beach, swim in the pool, pick up chicks and get drunk in bars. Three days. God loves a trinity, I said, so I’ll be vacationing for these three days like there is no tomorrow.
Then the fourth day came.
Having woken up in my room that was courteously rented for me by my “providers”, I came out onto the balcony and lit a smoke. The first cigarette of a new day. I don’t know about you, but it always brings me plenty of pessimism and feelings of guilt for the last day. My brain starts to think in black and white and all the surroundings start to seem so horrible that I want to hang myself. One man dies, others breathe easier. But then one hour passes, during which you can have some tea and a small breakfast and the colors return to the world. The colors of life. And then the adequate thoughts start flowing. So. I have ten cards. Which one of them shoots true, fuck knows. All of them are registered to my passport. Actually it’s more like my name is written to track one and I’m listed as the cardholder. My colleagues will start laughing hysterically now, but, I’m sorry, I had no money for fake documents. And even if they would start searching for me, screw them. Russia is a big country and the address I’m registered in has not coincided with my real residence for a long time, the most important thing is to leave the country quickly. I exchanged my ticket early, so I had two more days until I had to leave, instead of the ten that I had remaining from the tour. I noticed the stores I needed to shop right when I arrive. I’m just strange like that, I notice and analyze everything, even when I am on vacation. Now I just needed to make purchases. I decided to use one card for every two stores I visit. Twenty stores total. I think we’ll be buying electronics; notebooks and cell phones to be precise. It’s easy to sell even in Turkey itself and it won’t raise any suspicions. So, a Russo Touristo came to Turkey, so he spent some dough and decided to pawn a laptop, so what?
Thanks a lot to my English teachers. As a student of a school with advanced English study, I was jerked off to death by this language. Yes, that is exactly the word I am trying to use. But I ended up knowing it enough to probably get a weak B-minus. I really did speak it, as opposed to kids who graduated regular schools. That’s what saved me.
— Hi, I need to buy PC, can you help me?
— Yes, of course
Then everything was smooth sailing. I would purchase the merchandise and gather it in my room. In only one day, I have visited eighteen shops, having purchased something in each. I decided not to use the tenth card. Screw it. It worked well anyway; I shouldn’t test my fortune too much.
In the evening I went back to the hotel, went downstairs to the bar and got fucked up on rum and coke. I only had one thought in my head then: THANKS TO THE DUMP SELLER. I was so thankful to him. Nine out of ten cards worked without fail. Not one bad one. I almost deified him. Even now, I write you this letter and remember him with the warmest feelings. And if he reads these words, let him know that I said:
THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!
I know it’s possible that the tenth was good too, but I didn’t want to check anymore. I just wanted booze and debauchery like any regular Russian tourist. To go and kick some German’s ass while chanting: “For Stalin, For the Motherland!” But, thankfully, (why thankfully? Because a drunk Russian just-over-twenty tourist with a feeling of euphoria in his head and money in his wallet can create the kind of trouble that Turks will think he belongs in a madhouse) some French girl sat next to me and we started our international communication. I tried to explain to her stuff like that “Bon jour” translates to “Zdor?vo” and she babbled something back to me in Frog. And the more we drank the less of a language barrier we felt. After the first bottle of rum, I could speak a bit of French and she tried to reproduce my native words. When the second bottle came to an end, the language of gestures came into use. And finally, after half of the third one, we didn’t use our tongues for communication anymore. :)
I woke up in the morning and thought that I was going insane. I was not in my room. Next to me was the French girl. I probably should write her name, but I do not remember it. Just “J”, the French girl. I was rather happy that in a drunken haze I did not drag her over to my room. I think she would have been rather surprised by the fifteen notebooks and three cell phones on the floor, all brand new and unpacked. Oh well — I thought — I think I’m going to go sell it all. Time to go home.
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