I See Scammer People

Sometimes in the morass of LinkedIn’s self-congratulatory chaos (look - I have a new certificate for Waking Up Three Days in a Row!), a gem appears out of nowhere. I recently received a LinkedIn request from someone who looked like a real legitimate and human person. I get too many requests. I think everyone does. And I ignore most of them. LinkedIn says I have 500+ connections, which sounds like I am an all powerful being, yet I don’t do much with it.

But this message, ah, this one was interesting.

It came from someone with a headshot that screamed “AI made this,” graduated with a master’s degree from Stanford, and works at Tencent, which is the company that owns TikTok.

Intrigued, I accepted her invitation.

Almost instantly a LinkedIn direct message pops up. It’s my new Stanford Tencent friend, and she wants to know how I am.

This is a strange request, especially on a purported professional networking website. My spidey-sense is a-tingling, but yet I’m so terribly curious because I know, oh I KNOW, this is a scammer trying to lure in some fresh catch. I can’t resist, so I answer:

“I am reflecting on the limits of my own inadequacies.”

And her response: “I would like to know about these limits. Do you face these at work?”

What is work without inadequacies? That's what you call the weekend.

So we begin an inane conversation where she avoids any of my questions about Tencent or TikTok. Instead, she wants my WeChat account info to continue talking there and not on LinkedIn. Apparently she had to visit her grandmother, and I guess LinkedIn doesn't work around grandmothers. I don’t use WeChat for many reasons so instead I offer to talk on Signal, which is a different kind of encrypted messaging app. 

On Signal, her first message is this:

“Let’s exchange pictures!”

Hmm. Pictures. First: it’s not hard to find my picture because a few years ago, in a fit on public service insanity, I was an elected human on the Amarillo, Texas city council (I draw a distinction between ‘human’ and some other inhumans who were also elected around me). 

Two: asking for someone’s picture right off the bat is strange. So, of course, my response must be:

“Heck, yeah!”

Then she sends me this:

Unfortunately, this arrived just as my Aikido group was meeting for tacos so I had to spit out my drink without hitting anyone at the table. This picture is pure, genuine, amazing scammer art: the right hand cupped as if she needs you to repeat your last sentence but doesn't understand where the ear is, the vacant yet eager expression, the strange suitcase behind her full of drawers and mirrors that just might have belonged to a vaudeville ventriloquist, and the the bizarre sun refraction on the back wall that looks like the Wicker Man is coming for her soul. Yes, this is the very work I would expect from a Stanford grad. 

Of course, I am delighted.

So I send this back to her:

And her first response is this:

“You’re very handsome. I like your nose.”

Yes, I know: a graduate of a prestigious university doesn’t recognize Richard Nixon? Of course she doesn’t. More than likely, ‘she’ is a trapped and unwitting man held against his will and forced to scam people online.

Even so, I couldn’t resist. I replied:

“Thank you. I’m surrounded by sycophants all day long who compliment me. I need an honest relationship. You seem to be honest. I need your opinion. I’d like to change the shape of my office from oval to square. What do you think?”

“I think square is a good shape.”

“Me too. An oval room has too many bugs.”

(I want to pause a beat here and enjoy that joke one last time.)

Then she/he drops the fishing line:

“Can you afford to remodel your office? I’ve been investing in cryptocurrency. This might be something good for you too.”

And there it is. Cryptocurrency. The get-rich-quick scheme of the century. The new Nigerian Prince scam.

I stopped the conversation there and said quickly, "Good try. Good bye." Blocked and deleted.

I know several people, mainly old white guys, who have fallen into this trap: someone sends them a picture and expresses interest in them. They strike up a conversation, probably a spicy one, and somehow, after a few weeks, suddenly find their bank account empty.

These are real things that happen to real people.

I used to take solace in the old bit of wisdom that you can’t cheat an honest person. But now I like this quote from Orson Scott Card better:

“Good people can’t out-think evil, cause evil thinks of things good folks can’t think of.”

So watch the fishing lures.

And always keep a picture of Tricky Dick close by. Just in case.