A Threatening Cypriot Surprise from Sophia

The e-mail subject line “Just don’t let the days past you by without enjoying them to the fullest!” seems vaguely like a threat. I can imagine a silver-haired witch saying it with an Eastern European accent and a toothless smile while handing me a cursed trinket. So obviously, when an e-mail with that subject line arrived in my inbox, I really had to click on it. I was met with the following missive: 

Hello, mighty man! How are you?
I feel so lonely these days! I guess you would make a hot company for any playful babe like me! Why dont we meet online to get each other better? I have a number of thrilling nude pics at this dating website. Please be there for me! The registration is free. I will tell you everything in a private chat, sugar!
Cannot wait to see you! >>>>>>>   

Now
———-
To not receive this message again, visit the page below:

or write to:
Nautell Capital Limited, Stasinou, 1 Mitsi Building 1, 1st floor, Office 4 Plateia Eleftherias, Nicosia Cyprus 106

It took me a few reads, but I finally came to the realization that there is a singular line that makes this e-mail creepier than most ridiculous spam. Yes, there, in the middle of all this sex chat and weird adjectives like ‘playful’ and ‘thrilling,’ is the sentence, “Please be there for me!” 

This is the point at which the e-mail goes from being a funny romp in the world of cyber solicitation to something out of an episode of Law & Order: SVU, Cyprus Edition. Does anyone actually think that watching some chick take her clothes off on a webcam constitutes ‘being there’ for her? That person is a shitty person. Or is this a plea for help? Most importantly, why are you making me feel weird and responsible for this bot’s safety, weird sex website? This is a very bad marketing campaign, seriously.

Also, please notice that the e-mail ends with the words, “Cannot wait to see you…Now.” That is fucking terrifying and undoubtedly threatening. Is the Sophia of the e-mail address about to show up at my apartment dressed like a rabbit, or pick me up tonight in a converted taxi cab like the Bone Collector? Jesus. Way to give me a panic attack, Nautell Capital Limited. I’m going elsewhere for my viruses. 

Hi handsome! ;)

There’s nothing like a spamalicious e-mail to put me in a good mood. This gem arrived in my inbox earlier today:

Hi handsome! 😉

If you looking forward about spending great time in a company of funny, cute chick then I’m waiting for u!
I really liked ur photo shots and that’s why decided to send this mail! I’m sure that you wouldn’t stay disappointed after staring at mine too.
So, I wait for you to answer this message and who knows we will go somewhere, drink some vodka, talk about different subjects and who knows I gonna invite you to visit my life! 😉

You can find my profile here: xxxxxxx

With kisses,
Trinity

First of all, just who does Trinity assume I am? “Hi handsome”?! Jeez. This reminds me of that time a waiter called me ‘Sir.’

Furthermore, I’m pretty sure that ‘going somewhere,’ ‘drinking some vodka’ and ‘talking about different subjects’ sound like three suggestions a bunch of aliens would make during a round of Taboo if the category was ‘Humanoid Courting Rituals.’ This begs the question: are we missing out on having contact with extraterrestrials by not checking our Spam inboxes?

I must admit, though – I can’t stop thinking about whether or not Trinity gonna invite me to visit her life! Can you even imagine? Just chilling like Zenon, looking out of a space portal at a red dwarf, drinking cold vodka and chatting with an alien from Mars Attacks. I’m SO DOWN.

Who knows.

With kisses,
Caroline

To the guy in CVS with Rabbit Foot Hair:

Excuse me, guy on line in front of me at CVS: could you please explain to me why you shaved 99% of your head but left a small patch of hair intact on your crown and then dyed that hair green? Is that your good luck chunk of hair or something? Has a bird shat on that spot on your head a record-breaking number of times? I’m really at a loss here. Moreover, why green, the color of fungus, algae and rotting flesh? It’s not even a nice green – it’s more of a sickly chartreuse. Just horrible.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that your ‘cool,’ ‘subversive’ hairstyle looks like something in a movie about bullying where the popular boys glue a gangrenous rabbit’s foot to the back of a nerd’s head while he’s passed out after drinking his first beer at his first party or something. It’s bumming me out just looking at it, and I think you should shave it the fuck off immediately, if not sooner.

Damnit, Cupid, So NOT OKAY: The OkCupid Trials, Date 2

Another guy that I met on OkCupid looked very promising from his online dating profile. It said that he was from Louisiana, he was a graphic designer, and he was tall and wore glasses. I was convinced that this was the guy for me. Then I met him.

In real life, he was gangly and awkward, like a male version of Olive Oyl, and his glasses were crooked. He was also, hands-down, the MOST BORING PERSON I’VE EVER MET. He was so boring that I briefly contemplated pretending to pass out/slide off of the banquette we were sitting on just so I could get taken away in an ambulance and not have to talk to him anymore.

Here’s a little anecdote from the hour-long date that really drives home how awful he was. At one point, over our ONE BEER, he asked me if I’d ever seen the movie “The Cove.” I hadn’t, simply because a movie about the systematic slaughter of adorable, innocent dolphins doesn’t appeal to me. I feel like I’ve seen it NOW, though, because when I told him I hadn’t seen it, he proceeded to give me a full recap of its plot that felt like it lasted roughly four times as long as the movie itself. I don’t know why he thought this was good date chat. I’m pretty sure that there isn’t a woman in the world who would find hearing about defenseless, majestic sea beasts being harpooned in the head to be a turn-on (okay, maybe Karla Homolka, but that’s it). Then again, he WAS on a dating website, so I don’t really know why I was so shocked by his social ineptitude.   

Towards the forty minute mark, I remember saying to him, “Well, I’m finished with my beer, so maybe we should wrap this up.” His response? “Well, I still have half of my beer to go.” I should’ve looked him dead in the eye right then and said, “You’re the most boring person I’ve ever met and speaking with you is less fun than having my toe chewed on by a wild rat,” but instead, I just weakly said, “Okay,” and sat there like a lump until he finally finished his beer.

After awkwardly waving goodbye to him the minute we set foot outside the bar, I speed-walked away and never looked back. He must have gotten the hint from my dead-eyed, forty-yard stare, because we never spoke again. Thankfully.

That Time I Wore a Winter Coat for 6 Years

I’ve always been pathologically self-conscious. I don’t really know why – it’s not like I was born without a nose or anything – but I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. I think maybe the neurosis stems from having looked so much like a boy when I was a baby that I’d be in my carriage wearing a pink dress and pink hair clips and people would STILL come over and ask, “Aww, how old is he?!” (This might have had something to do with the fact that my ‘hair’ consisted of three wispy strands of nothing, but I digress.)

The self-consciousness wasn’t SO bad when I was a kid, though I do remember being six years old and so deeply ashamed of a tiny mole on my left hand that I would hold it to my body in a palsy-ish kind of way. It only really got bad when I hit twelve years old – that’s when I first put on a knee-length, black, puffy winter coat, and I pretty much didn’t take the fucking thing off for the next six years.

You may think I’m exaggerating. I wish that were the case, but you could ask any one of the 120 kids I went to school with back then, and every single person would tell you, “Yeah, Caroline definitely did spend 6th grade through 12th grade comfortably swaddled in a crazy person puffer coat.” I’d break out Old Faithful as soon as the temperature dipped below 65 degrees in October, and I wouldn’t take it off until it was so hot outside that other people were wearing sundresses and shorts to school.

It was pretty nutty behavior, retrospectively, and GOOD GOD was it BOILING HOT in there. Multiple times a week, some other student, most likely clad only in a thin, short-sleeved shirt, would turn to me and say, “Hey, Caroline, it’s super hot in here, aren’t you hot in that coat?” And even though my hair would be plastered to my red, sweaty face and I’d be feeling like I could slump over from heat stroke at virtually any moment, I’d reply, “Oh, man, I’m FREEZING! I can’t believe you’re hot! I’m so glad I have my coat to keep me toasty!” Then I’d spend the rest of the class simultaneously fuming at their nerve and envying them for the fact that they weren’t totally insane like me.

I even had a math teacher, Doc, who would literally beg me to take the coat off in front of the whole class. “Caroline, you’re beautiful,” he’d say, “and for the LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, could you take the goddamn coat OFF?” I’d just smile knowingly and say, “Oh, Doc. You know that’ll never happen.” And it didn’t – not until after I’d graduated from high school. I’m surprised my superlative in the yearbook wasn’t, “Most Likely To End Up Wearing a Tin Foil Hat to Match Her Paranoid Schizophrenic’s Outfit.”

Finally, I got to college and decided that there wasn’t much of a point to schvitzing like a pudding at a picnic all the time. Don’t get me wrong, though – I still wear a long, black, puffy coat every winter, and the first time each season that I get to put it on, I think to myself, “Hello, old friend. We meet again.”

A Very Craigslist “Househelp” Request

I received the following e-mail in my spam folder, which I check compulsively in case I miss a job offer from a prospective employer. Below is the original text of the solicitation, and beneath that is my response.

Hello There.
    I was checking on craigslist and i came accross your post. I’m Aaron Wilson and My wife’s name is Emily Wilson. We are relocating to your neighbourhood from England. I recently got a contract with a company on a private research job with minimum of two years contract and possibility of extending the contract. However, I need someone who will help me to take care of the house by doing some house work while am off to work. Someone that will also help in running some errands or babysitting.

I will be offering you $500 weekly payment, i will be needing your services for 6 hours at any suitable time of yours, Tuesday and Saturday. If you believe you are fit for this position in as much you will prove yourself to be a reliable, responsible and good person, I have a financier that is based in the States and he will be handling the payment and some other expenses. I will instruct him to pay for the first two weeks before my arrival so as to secure your service.

My financier will be making out a check to you before our arrival, you will be receiving an overpayment bank check which you will deduct your pay for the first two weeks and you will be using the remaining to buy foodstuffs, art galley, home appliance and other things needed in the house. You will be getting this foodstuff on the day of our arrival which will be the 30th of Next month. Actually our flights from England will arrive at nights so you will be getting the foodstuff in the morning and making all other preparations.

I just bought the house and as soon as all the paper work is finalize and i will instruct my estate agent to mail the keys of the house to you so that you can do all other necessary preparations before we arrive, I will also email you the shopping list after you received and cashed the check okay..

You have to get all this shopping before our arrival so that we wont have to start running around when we arrive, So my financier would be needing the following Information to make out the check.

Full Name:
Full address with zipcode & Apt Number:
Age:
Gender:
Phone number:
Acceptance of offer:

All I need from you is total honesty and sincerity. I know you will be committed to the work, You will also have a nice period of time working with my wife. I will be waiting to hear from you.

Regards,
Aaron Wilson

Now, my response:

Hello, Aaron,

Thanks for your e-mail. I’ve got to admit, it was a little TL;DR (that means Too Long; Didn’t Read). Let me just make sure that I got the point.

1. You’re looking for a stranger to organize all your shit before you and your (possibly invalid) wife, Emily, relocate to a new ‘neighbourhood’ (nice touch with the spelling).
 
2. You want me to cash a stranger’s check (or cheque, if you prefer) and buy ‘food stuffs,’ ‘home appliance’ and an ‘art galley.’ Please clarify this last errand for me, as the internet tells me that a galley is “A low, flat ship with one or more sails and up to three banks of oars.” Does that mean that you want me to buy you a ship? My local Ship Mart only sells ships with four banks of oars. Ugh, America, amiright?! Let me know if this works for you.

3. You want me to send you all of the information you’d need to come to my actual house, put a chloroform rag over my mouth, and stuff me in the trunk (boot) of your car.

4. In the next breath, you say that all you need from me is total honesty and sincerity. Somehow, even though you have no idea who the hell I am, you know I will be committed to the work (namely, the preparation of foodstuff).

5. Please tell me more about this wife that I’ll be working alongside. Is she spooky? Does she have transparent skin? What about her fingernails – would you classify them more as talons? And her accent: would you say it’s more Northern or Southern? How does she pronounce the word ‘scam?’

Finally, you should know that I will only agree to this job if I get to wear a full Victorian maid’s uniform with a bustle.

Fingers crossed I get the job, guys!