“Hey beautiful lady, I do not know how to express the conflicting emotions that have surged like a storm through my heart… I only know that first and foremost in all my thoughts has been the glorious confirmation that I wish to give to that special some one to my life… You have the greatest soul, the noblest nature, the sweetest, most loving, I know my admiration for you has been the greatest ever of my life… (sic)”
This sweet but grammatically awkward message was waiting for me one day when I logged on to one of my many social networking accounts early last year. It was from a handsome guy named John Will, who had apparently fallen madly in love with me at first surf. While trawling the Net and flipping through profiles, he must have been blown away by the bright smile I was giving the camera.
He must also have been psychic. How else would he know that I have a great soul and noble nature, am sweet and loving, and worthy of his greatest admiration? I must be awesome to snag a man I’d never met through nothing more than a small profile photo!
I’d admit I was flattered. I don’t get such compliments every day, especially from good-looking men, so I basked in the moment. But the sceptic in me quickly reared its rational head. Out of curiosity, I chatted John up.
He proceeded to tell me his sad story – how his wife was tragically killed in a road accident, how it left him broken and alone, how he was trying to pick up the pieces. He told me he was a successful business consultant living in a swanky New York apartment with his young son, chauffeur, cook, maid, and gardener.
Hmm, I never knew you had gardens in apartment buildings, I said. Oh, mine is the penthouse suite, so we had a special garden built, he countered (cue alarm bells). He owned five luxury cars (“If you were here right now, I’d give one to you. Just choose,” he told me). He was born and raised in California, where his parents – both retired teachers – still resided, but he chose to study chemical engineering at one of America’s finest universities, the University of Alabama. Oh? Why not Harvard or Yale? I asked. Because Alabama’s nearer, he said (er… cue second set of alarm bells).
The not-so-perfect con
Despite his flawed story, John was every bit the perfect gentleman. He constantly showered me with praise, and could even hold a decent conversation. If I hadn’t known better, I would have taken him for the real deal. We chatted online every night, and he entertained me with his knowledge of current affairs.
He peppered his lines with pet names for me, like baby and sweetie. He’d tell me how he missed me, how we were meant to be together and that I should never fear as our love was so strong, nothing could tear us apart. Good to know – though I’d never professed such concerns in the first place.
Then I went on a work trip, and was too tired to chat with him as often as before. He rang and left me loving voice messages. That was the first time I heard his voice, and his accent was anything but American. When I called him on it, he said he was of mixed parentage and his parents didn’t speak English well.
I was starting to get annoyed – how stupid did he think I was? I did a little detective work and googled the telephone number he gave me. The country code was for Nigeria. Then I looked up his e-mail address and found a long string of John Wills listed on a website dedicated to exposing scammers like him. He was unmasked on this site – he was of African descent – definitely not Caucasian, as he’d pretended to be. I pitied the unsuspecting man whose profile picture of him with his son had been so misused.
Two can play this game
As I read the many stories shared by the victims on the website, I found that John and other scammers always used the same modus operandi – a story of how his wife died in a tragic car crash, leaving him with one young child (the gender changed from time to time), how he was rich but lonely, and needed a woman to resurrect feelings long gone. After a period of time, John would ask for a huge loan from his lady love to move his goods out of China, India or some other part of Asia. When he had squeezed all the money he could from his “girlfriend”, or if the victim worked out his real motive, he would disappear.
I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. I wasn’t delusional – I knew there was no way I could get him caught – but I was up for some fun at his expense. So I told him a big, fat lie about myself.
Up until then, I had never told him about my personal background, except for my age and being single, and he’d never probed. But now, I told him that despite being a savvy investment banker earning lots of money, I was lonely and unhappy, just like him.
I bared my “soul”, telling him of the numerous times I’d had my heart broken. I said that all I wanted was a man to love me so we could start a family together. I told him I needed to get married soon to tap into the trust fund my parents had set up for me, which probably amounted to millions by now.
John was very interested in this piece of information – although kudos to him for remembering to show me sympathy first. He proposed meeting up when he arrived in Singapore for business so that we could take our relationship “to the next level”.
I agreed, gushing about how I couldn’t wait for him to meet my family and friends. I even hinted that we should announce our impending nuptials at a lavish party that I would throw in his honour – no, he hadn’t proposed; I just pretended to assume that he was going to. John modestly said I shouldn’t be wasting my money on him, but if I insisted, he would accept.
Love fool… not!
The week leading up to his “arrival”, he constantly sent messages and e-mails about the difficulties his import-export trade was facing. But aren’t you a business consultant? I innocently asked. “Oh yes, I am, but I run other businesses, too. I like to get involved in as many things as I can,” he said.
He continued with his story of how his cargo was stuck at Chinese customs, and how he urgently needed to move the items out to his distributors to avoid losing millions of dollars. I knew he would ask me for money soon, so I showed concern and asked if there was anything I could do to help. He took the bait – in his next e-mail, he said he had to cough up $90,000 to get his goods out, and that if I loved him, I should lend him the cash.
I told him I wanted to help but couldn’t as my money was tied up in my trust fund. But if he had $45,000 to transfer to my bank account first as a guarantee, I might be able to persuade my father to release some funds, I said. John took a while to reply that his associate would carry out the necessary transaction, but it would take time. Then he begged me to send him some money first. Any amount that I could afford just to get him started, he said.
I told him I would try to get $8,000 for him, but I’d rather pass the money to him in person to ensure that it didn’t fall into the wrong hands. He urged me to transfer the money, but I insisted on doing it face to face. His final plea: “Send me the money soon, love, and the moment I get it, I will fly to you with a diamond ring and a proposal.”
I remained unmoved.
End of days
John bombarded me with more e-mails and love vows over the next few days, trying to persuade me to bail him out. I told him I’d fallen out of love with him, as I’d realised he was more interested in my fortune than my well-being. He denied it vehemently, and in an attempt to “win my heart” again, reverted to his templated phrases and bad attempts at poetry. A week later, he gave up and disappeared.
I still get messages from random men giving me the same spiel John did. So do some of my friends. The men’s names and faces differ, but their words don’t – it’s a poor cut- and-paste job, and they probably all work for the same syndicate. I wonder if they realise how idiotic they sound.
If you’re a lonely heart, remember – the next time you get a profession of love online from someone you’ve never met, don’t jump in head first.
This article was originally published in Simply Her January 2013.