Scamming the e-mail scammers
Nigerian scam e-mails are a dime a dozen, right up there with offers for cheap Viagra. Snopes.com says that there are hundreds of variations on these e-mails but they all add up to the same deal: Someone with poor English skills wants to swindle you.
The messages are usually attributed to some judge's son or widow or someone attempting to divert their relative's funds out of the country and very willing to give you a piece of the action. These e-mails are so impersonal, haphazard worms being flung out to unknown fish, they hardly make you feel special in that way a con should. It is clear that these are not professional criminals who have studied their mark.
According to Snopes, though, the scams are hugely successful and, in 1997, United States citizens lost $100 million dollars to these con artists.
Which brings me to my new friend, "Macathy Dennis."
I put my car up for sale on Cars.com and received an inquiry from a gentleman named Macathy Dennis. He wanted to confirm the car's price for a client of his who, he claimed, planned to send some "International Shipping Agent" to come pick the car up. His closing words "Looking forward to your response soonest" seemed particularly Nigerian to me.
I was feeling whimsical, so I replied with the details he wanted. Sure enough, Macathy Dennis was overjoyed that "said items are still for sale" and got right down to business: "i want you to know one thing that the Mode of payment is going to be Certified Cashier's Checks that will be drawn from an American. So there will be no problem in Cashing the Check. Also i want you to know that you will be receiving a Cashier's Check of $5,000 that will sent to you one of my Client over there in the USA who is owing me this amount."
Macathy Dennis expected me to cash the check immediately at "the Cashing Store," pass the funds (less the price of my car) to his unnamed "Personal Assistant," wait for the shipping company to show up for the car, and provide him with all my contact info -- strangely no credit card numbers, bank account info, or Social Security numbers, but I imagined one of those was coming later. He also threw in an additional $100 "for the little stress you will be going through in the transaction."
No one can ever claim that Macathy Dennis does not care about the people he does business with.
At first there was some irate back and forth about the details of that hundred dollar bonus -- I was quite clear that I wanted to make sure he wasn't trying to be shifty with the numbers -- and this frustrated the poor man to such a degree that he certainly didn't need me to dash off an e-mail informing him that his client was in danger of losing out on the car if the issue of compensation was not addressed. I expected him to sweat for his mark.
I heard back from a very frantic Macathy Dennis, responding in all capital letters: "I WILL LIKE TO KNOW IF YOU WANT TO CONTINUE WITH THE TRANSACTION AND IF YOU ARE WILLING TO CONTINUE."
I did the only thing I could do, given the situation -- I asked Macathy Dennis if he could send the funds to my fictitious representative, Mr. Gerhard Hogan.
Not surprisingly, Macathy Dennis was now overjoyed that I had chomped his hook again and rambled on again about "full details which the payment will be made out" and signed off with "hope to read from you shortly." It was almost heartbreaking, and I hated myself for responding that Mr. Hogan had received a counter offer from the fictitious Mr. Kingsley Azuka and the money needed to be dispatched immediately to Mr. Hogan of Fooferall Road in Williamstown, Mass.
Until then, I had not seen Macathy Dennis quite so worked up. "I think i'll not be so happy if i could not express my plan to you on this transaction," he barked at me, adding that "i want you to tell Mr Hogan to cancel any offer from any other buyer and concentrate on me so as for this transaction to be a perfect and successful transaction with trust."
I could almost feel the veins popping in the poor man's head when he again asked for Mr Hogan's contact information -- apparently he had forgotten the office on Fooferall Road.
"Mr. Hogan operates out of a mobile van of no fixed address," I informed him.
I heard nothing -- Macathy Dennis had disappeared off the face of the earth. In order to save the deal, I sent a message that Mr. Hogan wanted to personally hand over the car: "Is it possible that you or your personal assistant can meet Mr. Hogan in Times Square in New York City at your convenience? Mr. Hogan asks me to inform you that he will be the portly man wearing the yellow goulashes."
My friend never addressed a Times Square meeting, but, expert swindler that he is, has tried to switch the grift to the portly Mr. Hogan, trying to get HIS phone number before brushing me aside with "So have a nice day and stay blessed."
But I wouldn't have it. I told Macathy Dennis that Mr. Hogan intended to bypass the international shipper and bring it over himself. As it turns out, Macathy Dennis likes that idea and wants both our phone numbers now because the transaction has reached a point where it demands a telephone conversation to sort the whole mess out.
I replied that Mr. Hogan is ready with the car and really needs to know which port to deliver it to. "And don't forget," I added, "yellow goulashes."
