It was the kind of slow day at Walmart where you catch yourself wondering if time has stopped. I was stuck in the electronics department, killing time by rearranging the video games.
It was a dull routine—line them up, alphabetize, realize nobody cares, and start over again. I wasn’t expecting anything exciting to happen.
Then, the department phone rang.
“Electronics,” I answered, half hoping it was a customer needing help with something more interesting than a return.
“Hello! This is Steam Support services with Valve. Are you the person responsible for managing your store’s game inventory?”
I immediately knew what this was—a Steam Key scam.
The scammer wanted me to crack open game cases and read the activation codes so he could sell them online. I’ve been a gamer long enough to know that Valve doesn’t call Walmart asking for game keys.
This guy thought I was some clueless retail employee.
I should’ve hung up. But honestly, I was bored.
And I figured, if this guy wanted to waste my time, it was only fair that I wasted his right back.
“Oh! Yes, that’s me,” I said, barely suppressing a grin.
But, I had no idea how insane this day was about to become.
Hook, Line, and Hold Music
The scammer cleared his throat, slipping into what I’m sure he thought was an official-sounding tone.
“We’ve identified a problem with some of the Steam game keys in your inventory. Customers may experience activation issues. We need to validate the keys immediately to avoid complaints.”
I gasped like I was hearing terrible news. “Oh no! That’s bad, right? Should I be worried?”
“Yes, very bad,” the scammer said, probably thinking he had an easy target. “Please open the cases and read me the codes so we can verify them.”
“Oh! Um…” I hesitated for effect. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to open game cases. I mean, my manager is kinda strict.”
The scammer forced a laugh, though I could hear his patience starting to wear thin. “It’s okay. This is official protocol from Steam Support. You won’t get in trouble.”
“Well… okay,” I said, as if I was reluctantly convinced. “So… which game keys do you need?”
“Call of Duty or Assassin’s Creed. Look for those.”
“Got it! Hang on a sec, I’ll grab one.”
And just like that, I put him on hold.
Spreading the Fun
While the scammer waited, I wandered off to find Tina, one of the cashiers who worked the front end.
Tina was a fellow gamer, and I knew she’d appreciate what was happening.
“You won’t believe this,” I said, leaning against the counter. “I’ve got a scammer on the phone. He’s trying to get me to read Steam codes.”
Her eyes widened. “No way! Are you messing with him?”
“Oh yeah,” I grinned. “And it’s just getting started.”
Before heading back to the phone, I called two other Walmart stores nearby and gave their electronics departments a heads-up about the scam. They both found it hilarious, promising to warn their employees and encouraging me to keep stringing the guy along.
By the time I got back, the scammer was still on hold.
I had to give him credit—he was committed.
Maximum Incompetence
“Hey! I’m back,” I said cheerfully, as if I’d just run a marathon looking for games.
“So… I think I grabbed the wrong one. It says Dwarf Horizon. That’s okay, right?”
“No!” the scammer snapped, his frustration starting to show. “Call of Duty or Assassin’s Creed! Not Dwarf Horizon!”
“Ohhh, right. My bad,” I said innocently. “Hang on, I’ll grab the right one.”
Back on hold he went.
This time, I let him stew for a good five minutes. I casually wandered the aisles, chatted with Tina again, and even restocked a few shelves.
When I finally picked the phone back up, the scammer sounded like he was barely holding on.
“Okay!” I said brightly. “I’ve got a copy of Assassin’s Creed now! So… um, how do I open it?”
The scammer’s voice cracked slightly. “What?”
“Like, do I just rip the plastic off? Or is there, like, a special way to open it?” I asked, sounding genuinely confused.
“Just open the case!” the scammer barked.
“Okay, okay! Don’t worry, I’ve got this… uh-oh.”
I paused dramatically. “I think I tore the booklet inside. Is that bad?”
The scammer let out a long, suffering sigh. “Just find the code and read it!”
The Perfect Code
I decided it was time to end this.
“Alright! I’ve got the code right here,” I said, letting just a hint of triumph creep into my voice. “Just to make sure I don’t mess it up, I’ll spell it out for you, okay?”
The scammer, thinking his patience had finally paid off, replied, “Yes. Spell it slowly.”
I took a deep breath, grinning so hard my face hurt.
“Alright, here we go: S as in Sierra… C as in Charlie… A as in Alpha… M as in Mike… M as in Mike… E as in Echo… R as in Romeo.”
There was a long, satisfying silence on the other end of the line.
I could almost hear the wheels turning in the scammer’s head as he realized what I had just spelled out.
The Meltdown
“You… YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?” the scammer burst out, his voice cracking with rage.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I burst into uncontrollable laughter, struggling to catch my breath as he spiraled further into his tantrum.
“You… you idiot!” the scammer stammered. “You’re wasting my time!”
That only made me laugh harder. The irony was too perfect.
The scammer tried to say something else—probably the most creative insult he could think of—but his voice cracked again.
And then, with a sharp, angry click, the line went dead.
Best Shift Ever
I leaned back against the counter, wiping tears from my eyes.
That was beautiful. Not only had I wasted the scammer’s time, but I’d also pushed him so far that he cracked under the pressure.
Tina came running over, grinning from ear to ear. “Well? Did he lose it?”
“Oh, he lost it,” I said, still catching my breath. “The moment I hit him with ‘S as in Sierra, C as in Charlie,’ he completely fell apart.”
She doubled over, laughing. “That’s amazing.”
The rest of the shift flew by after that. Every time I walked past the video game aisle, I couldn’t help but smile.
Somewhere out there, a scammer was sitting by his phone, fuming over the Walmart employee who’d just scammed him right back.
And honestly? That was the most fun I’d had at work in months.