My Financial Savvy - 10/8/08

In these uncertain economic times, it’s only natural to turn to the experts for financial guidance. Many of you know me as a mother, a Pampered Chef consultant and now a weekly columnist. But what you might not know is that people all over the world seek my financial assistance in multi-million dollar transactions.

Just this morning, I received an e-mail from Saeed Ahmed, a merchant in Dubai, looking for someone to help him collect his sixty million dollars from “…a insurance/Security company abroad...” Yesterday, I received an e-mail from Christina Zuma, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Zuma of Zimbabwe. She writes, “This might be a surprise to you about where I got your contact…” (Yes, Christina, especially since I can’t balance a checkbook to save my life). Apparently, Christina got my e-mail address as a “reliable person” after fasting and praying. Her murdered parents were farmers and now Christina needs me to help her access her father’s $5.5 million dollars that is now in a “metallic trunk box” in Abidjan Cote D’Ivoire. Wow, 5.5 million… I’ve GOT to try farming.

Ms. Rena Monibar e-mailed me from a refugee camp in Senegal, asking me to help her retrieve her father’s $7.5 million (they have computers and e-mail in refugee camps?) The late Alfonoso Gonzalez who, until his death was a member of the Helicopter
Society (?) loved to give out alms to the poor, hungry and needy. His will, containing $30 million is ready for execution and guess who they want to give it to? Me! (I’ll take all the alms I can get.)

If none of these appeals for financial assistance seem familiar to you, perhaps you have better spam filters than me. These arrive daily, along with offers of teeth brightening treatments, $1 Viagra and the Ultimate Pet Nail Trimmer. Of course I know that these are scams, looking for that one gullible person who thinks, “At last, my chance to strike it rich.” Reading over these requests, with their outrageous circumstances (plane crashes, bus crashes, car crashes) and even more outrageous spelling and grammar mistakes makes me wonder: How stupid do they think we are?

Several months ago my phone rang. A computerized voice cheerily asked me if I would like to lower the interest rate on my credit cards. If so, press 1. I was immediately transferred to Debbie, a helpful customer service rep. When I asked which of my credit card companies she represented, she explained that she worked for an independent company that could lower the interest rates on all my credit cards. To get started, I just needed to give her the bank names and the credit card numbers. I played along for a bit, asking questions in an oh-so-innocent voice until finally I said, “Debbie. C’mon. Why would you think I would actually give you my credit information?” There was a pause and then she angrily shouted, “We’re scam artists” and hung up on me.

I guess I should strengthen the filters on my spam folders, which would eliminate most of these fraudulent e-mails. But I might miss the daily adventures of my “clients” in Africa, the UK and other exotic locales. It’s kind of like my own personal Internet soap opera. On the home front, I’ll try to improve managing my own money. Today I’ll actually start writing the checks down in that thingy. What’s it called? Oh yes, the ledger.