Look, I’m not saying I’m the easiest person on Earth to scam.
But I have a feeling that somewhere out there, in the dark corners of the internet, there’s a PowerPoint presentation titled “Top 10 Easiest Targets — Featuring That One Guy Who Keeps Sending Us Gift Cards.”
And yes. I’m that guy.
It all started innocently…
One ordinary Tuesday morning, I get a text:
“CONGRATULATIONS! You’ve been selected to receive a FREE BBQ smoker. Just enter your bank details to verify shipping.”
Now, I’m a simple man. You say “free BBQ smoker,” I’m already mentally grilling ribs like I’m hosting the PBR finals.
Thirty seconds later, I am inputting my credit card like I’m entering the nuclear codes.
Was the smoker real? No.
Was my identity stolen? Absolutely.
Did I still kinda hope the smoker would arrive for two full weeks? Maybe.
But I thought, “Hey, lesson learned.” Right?
Wrong.
Two days later, my phone rings. The caller ID says Microsoft Support. Very official. Blue logo and everything. A gentleman with a voice smoother than a Kenny Chesney chorus says, “Hello sir, we’ve detected your computer is running slow due to multiple viruses.”
Now, let me tell you something: if there’s one thing that strikes fear into my soul, it’s the phrase “multiple viruses.”
Next thing I know, I’m giving him remote access like he’s my long-lost IT uncle. Minutes later, he’s “fixing” my computer while I thank him like he just rescued my cat from a burning tree.
It wasn’t until my wallpaper changed to a dancing banana that I realized things had gone south.
Then I met a Nigerian Prince.
Well, not in person. Via email. But still — a prince. From Nigeria. Who “personally selected me” to receive 2 million dollars, as long as I just covered a small transaction fee. Only $500.
Five. Hundred. Dollars.
That’s less than I’ve spent on gas station snacks during a single road trip.
So I sent it.
He said the transfer was delayed due to “royal complications” and needed another $200 for “refund verification.”
That’s when I paused and thought:
“Hold up. This prince is terrible with money.”
So I only sent $150 to teach him financial discipline.
I figured I was done being scammed.
Until my friend Jessica “totally messaged me” on Facebook, saying she had a new business opportunity involving crypto llamas.
Did I know crypto llamas weren’t real?
In hindsight, yes.
In the moment? I was already thinking about what kind of hat my earnings would buy.
Spoiler: Jessica’s account was hacked and I had just invested $300 in what appeared to be cartoon livestock with sunglasses.
Then came the gift card situation.
Somebody emailed me claiming to be my boss. Which was confusing, because:
- I’m self-employed.
- They wrote, “Hello Employee, I am in urgent meeting. Please buy Apple gift cards for our company celebration.”
BUT I panicked. What if I did have a boss and just forgot?
So I sprinted to the store and bought $600 worth of Apple gift cards for a hypothetical corporate party that existed only in my imagination.
When they asked for the codes, I took a picture. Even added a thumbs up.
They replied with “Thank you, my subordinate.”
That’s when it hit me.
Real bosses don’t talk like medieval wizards.
I swore I was done. Forever. For real this time.
Until I got a voicemail from the “IRS” telling me there was a warrant out for my arrest unless I “resolved it immediately via Bitcoin.”
Naturally, my first thought wasn’t “This is a scam.” It was, “Oh no, I’m going to jail because I didn’t report that $28 I made selling an old lawnmower on Facebook Marketplace.”
Thankfully, I didn’t send them the Bitcoin.
Because I don’t know how Bitcoin works.
So instead, I tried to mail cash to a QR code.
Am I the problem? Yes.
At this point, even my bank has me on a watchlist labeled “Emotionally Suggestible.”
My grandma called me and said, “Honey, stop answering numbers you don’t recognize.”
But you know what? What if it’s Publisher’s Clearing House telling me I won a yacht?
What if it’s Toby Keith calling to say he needs me for a duet?
What if it’s the prince finally sending my money?
Am I learning? Slightly.
I’ve started asking scam callers questions they can’t answer, like:
“Which side of my pillow is colder?”
Or, “If you’re really Microsoft, what’s my favorite Pop-Tart flavor?”
(For the record, it’s Wild Berry. They never get it.)
I’ve also stopped buying gift cards for strangers. Now I only buy them for myself, which technically counts as growth.
Final thoughts…
If getting scammed was an Olympic sport, I’d have more medals than Michael Phelps.
But hey — maybe my stupidity can save someone else.
So consider this a public service announcement from a man who has personally funded at least three fake call centers and one imaginary cryptocurrency petting zoo:
If someone promises you millions, threatens you vaguely, or urgently requests gift cards…
Just walk away.
Or better yet, send them my number.
I’ll probably fall for it again anyway.
