Relative Something

Dear Rob,

Just a note to say I am beginning to think you are insanely desperate to buy the property on Ravenscroft Ln that you seem to think I own after several years of texting my number despite the resounding silence you get from me in return.

I’m writing to ask if you might know Kristen who keeps leaving me messages that sound like she is fixated on buying my property for cash. Any chance you two happen to live under the same roof?

Sorry, I’m just teasing. I know that you are both some guy named Vlad who lives in his mom’s basement in a country that doesn’t even bother putting basements under their metal-roofed shanties.

I could be wrong, but it seems to me that if you actually used the correct names and addresses of people and places that you wish to extract tax-free income from, the chances of fooling people have got to go up by some fraction of a percentile. Also, a lot of other schemes are employing the fine art of making the number that comes up on the caller ID of their targets show the local area code. True genius when it first started happening.

If you look it up on the dark web, I’m sure some bot would be happy to sell you the details of that fancy trick.

Don’t lose any sleep waiting to hear back from me about that delivery from US Postal for some imaginary package that can’t be delivered because the zip code is incorrect. I accidentally deleted it while I was tripping in front of running horses from the falling tree that was about to kill us all since Asher’s leash was tangled around everybody’s legs and the cloud of pigeons taking off from all the commotion was obscuring our view and I was looking down at my phone anyway in case it was an urgent call from someone I love.

Just kidding. I thought it would be funny to show you I can make stuff up, too. But if you want to call me back and give me your account numbers, I can help you pay us for a therapy session we are going to need after that imaginary scare about the tree falling and almost killing us.

Back before you were born, the running joke about pranking the snail mail solicitors who put postage-paid return envelopes in their offerings involved sending them a brick with their convenient envelope taped to it. No one believed that would work, but we all got a good yuck out of imagining it could.

Hey, tell “Kristen” that if she (you) shows up at our door with the cash in hand, it’s possible I might consider a swap, especially if the offer is significantly over market value like the pitch hints at. Don’t let Asher’s ferocious bark cause your knees to buckle. He only attacks people who are trying to take advantage of innocent victims.

No response necessary. I’m sure you are very busy with your cybercrime enterprises. Just mark this message as “Junk” and block my address. If you need any help doing that, I can show you. I’ve got the steps memorized.

Insincerely,
Everyone you harass

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