Dear Mr. Ibrahim Wahala,
Thanks so much for your e-mail offering me nearly half a million dollars! Usually, my e-mail consists of forwarded dumb blonde jokes, Little League snack schedules and sales offers for miracle cellulite creams. Imagine my excitement when ? bang ? in one day I get both a coupon for a free Frappuccino at Barnes & Noble and a chance to make $440,000 by doing practically nothing.
Let me see if I understand your offer correctly: You wire me $2.2 million from your Bank of Africa “suspense account,” in Abidjan, Ivory Coast, and I put it into my bank account. Then, at some unspecified time and place we meet and I hand over 80 percent of the money and keep the rest. All you need is my confidential telephone number so you can call to iron out the details.
First of all, Mr. Wahala, I?d like to congratulate you. You give your title as “Engr,” which I assume means engineer. My dad was an engineer but, boy, our bank account never topped $2 million. Not even close. Engineering must pay much better in the Ivory Coast, or maybe you are just thriftier than my parents, who blew their money on luxury items like a suburban colonial with a two-car garage and an Oldsmobile station wagon.
Being so frugal, you probably need to transfer funds because your savings account is just too stuffed and you have to make room for more ? sort of binge-and-purge banking ? if you get my drift.
You might also want to move your money because “Bank of Africa,” as far as I can determine, does not really exist. This must be terribly inconvenient and probably goes a long way toward explaining the suspense in that “suspense account.” Naturally, none of that is my affair. You are a sophisticated international businessman and I?m just the offspring of spendthrift Americans being given an incredible chance to make easy cash simply because I have a computer and a bank account.
In fact, I feel rather badly about the inequity of this entire situation. Since you are trusting me to hang on to your $2.2 million (not spending even a cent of it on miracle cellulite creams!), I feel I should offer something in return. Sadly, having inherited my parents? wastrel habits, my funds are currently tied up in a mortgage and a couple of kids. I do, however, have my Barnes& Noble Frappuccino coupon, some CVS extra care bucks and a free monthly rental from Blockbuster to put on the table.
My next question was going to be whether you wanted your $1,760,000 paid in cash or by check. Since I don?t have free checking, I?d have to add $.25 to that $440,000 as a service fee if a check is required.
However, then I got to thinking. Do I really deserve this opportunity? As writer, I already make money by just sitting at my computer and basically doing nothing. Of course, it isn?t quite as much as you are offering (and isn?t ever likely to be, unless I die at the computer, in which case my life insurance kicks in).
Still, I feel if I accepted your offer, I?d be taking advantage of both you and others who need this more, people who toil every day without the faintest hope of this type of windfall. That?s right – our hardworking U.S. government employees.
With that in mind, Mr. Wahala, I have forwarded your e-mail to investigators at the Department of Justice, whom I?m sure will find it extremely interesting. (And, you?ll be happy to know, their credit union offers free checking!)
Also, after much soul-searching, I have decided to keep my Frappuccino coupon.
Sincerely,
Melanie Howard, Wrtr
Melanie Howard is a freelance writer living in Virginia and a National Magazine Award finalist published in Glamour, SELF, CHILD, Seventeen, Family Circle and other national magazines. Her columns also run regularly in the Waterbury, Conn., Republican-American and have been published in the Alexandria Times. She can be reached at [email protected].
