A kaleidoscope of charms, lures, cures await the gullible.
Blog: Valley View
By Zenobia Khaleel
SAN FRANCISCO: Once in a blue moon, I check my junk mail filter for any misdirected correspondence.
But before I do, I have to steel my resolve with titanium cables to refrain from falling for its copious snares. My junk mail filter is a virtual Pandora’s Box that unleashes secrets, solutions and deals for every perceived and unperceived troubles in my life, with just a click of the key.
The unquestionable array of services provided: flea bargains, insider invites, educational courses, ‘once in a lifetime’ business deals, loan approvals (from the World Bank, no less!), choices for self-improvement…my fingers twitch uncontrollably to help myself to these golden life-altering opportunities.
Getting through the first page is easy; it’s a quick scroll down till the end of all the ‘seducing’ emails; there were fifteen emails titled seduction (I counted) with a host of other qualifiers from powerful to stealth thrown in!
It is hard to admit, but the Internet trounces even my grandma in matchmaking skills, constantly reminding me of sexy available singles in my zip code. With the rate of friendship requests I get from eager gentlemen in Armenia, I wonder if my name sounds extremely suggestive in Armenian dialect. And thank you Google for the weekly guilt trips; inquiring if I know my mother, my husband and two of my kids, and the subtle hints to add them into my circles.
It’s the incredible bargains that ultimately seduce me:
Luxury item replicas: At 15 to 30 bucks a pop, who cares if it spells ‘Rolox†or ‘Couch’!
Limited offer for today and tomorrow only! International flights to 15 Asian countries: God knows I’ll leave my dinner halfway to visit my mom for a mere 100$, but I might end up giving her an angina if I turn up on her doorstep unannounced from half way across the world.
Free giveaways: iPads, TVs, dream holidays, cold hard cash; all for your phone number. Corporate benevolence is so heartening!
The amount of Viagra and Cialis that’s always on sale at 80% off, one might believe that the stuff is sitting rotting in a deserted warehouse.
I’m a soft target for anything self-improvement: cook like a chef, write like a pro, look 10 years younger, lose inches, burn fat – sign me up…if all their claims were justified, I’d cook like Julia Child, write like Jane Austen, and look like Scarlett Johansson!
Earn your degree: When universities personally invite me to enroll, I do not take their advice lightly. In this economic climate, you never know when an extra degree might come in handy. And if I can earn one while cooking dinner or doing laundry, just call me Doctor!
When I first discovered the Internet, and before I learnt of Photoshop, I gullibly believed all the juicy trade secrets that NASA divulged via mass email, the excavations of Noah’s Ark, and the gigantic prehistoric beasts, and everything else that foretold the end of days! Turning religious with a vengeance, I forwarded all my emails to 20 people to ward of all ill-luck. Then the stream of hoax busting emails followed, crowding my inbox.
Having survived Nigerian princes, and Scottish lotteries, it still hurts that Mary, the stay-at-home mom would lie to me about the lucrative prospects of stuffing envelopes.
But lately I’ve noticed another disturbing trend. My friends are increasingly getting stuck in distant lands, with their passports, money and luggage stolen. Only if I send them return fare and some clean change of clothes, will they ever come back home! Their travel travails make Robinson Crusoe’s seem like a cruise!
Then there are the periodic feel-good missives from well-meaning friends, guaranteed to brighten my day or at least put a smile on my face. Rest assured, it contains one or more of the following: cute kittens, Anne Geddes babies, Universal wisdom. These messages have grown on me, and if I don’t receive one for a couple of weeks, I call up my friends to check if anything’s amiss.
Lastly, I have a few bones to pick with the spam cartel. I do not know what the cookies in my computer are revealing about me, but I do not fall in the demographic that’s looking for remedies for hot flashes, irregular bowel syndrome, or singles over 60 in my area! So stop pushing them on me!
(Zenobia Khaleel has donned a lot of hats; writer, photographer, travel enthusiast, troop leader, amateur actor, event coordinator, community volunteer, but predominantly go by the title Mom.)
To contact the author, email to zenobiakhaleel@americanbazaaronline.com