Most Apologies for Disturbing Your Beautiful Mood
And sincere apologies to Herbie Hancock and Nosferatu
Recently a person on Threads posted that someone had sent them a text meant for someone else, and when she pointed this out it led to a lovely conversation wherein the original texter offered to buy her a coffee next time she was in New York and blabbidy blabbidy blah. She was immediately disabused of the lovely-conversation idea by about 500 people who informed her that no, this was not an accidental wrong number text—it’s all designed to get you sucked into a scam of some sort, usually the purchase of crypto.
How did you not know this? asked most of the 500 people. Don’t respond, they said. At the very least, don’t give away any personal information.
So today’s cybersecurity tip from From the Desk of John M Donovan is this: Yes, definitely keep your personal information to yourself when dealing with wrong-number text scammers. And while it’s probably best to just ignore them, I have to confess I enjoy the hell out of wasting their time.
I’m not advising you to do the same, even though it’s fun and, for a few minutes anyway, keeps them from talking to someone who might fall for their crap. Here’s one of my recent favorites:
Spammer: Why didn’t you show up for your physical over the weekend?
Dono: I was having my appendix removed.
Spammer: Why didn’t you tell me to come see you?
Dono: I figured you were busy giving physicals.
Spammer: You’re not Daphne?
Dono: I’m not even Velma.
Opening with “Why didn’t you show up for your physical” is a fairly new approach. Sometimes it’s just “Hi” or “What are you doing this weekend?” For about a week the opening line was about taking care of the spammer’s dogs. This one was clearly not an actual dog person:
Spammer: Could you look after my dog for me?
Dono: Sure, bring him over.
Spammer: Thank you Emily. I will bring it to your studio later.
Dono: I’ll be ready. Wait—you call your dog “it”?
Once they realize you’re on to them, they make up some line about “Oh, I must have entered the wrong number” as if they were on a landline in 1977 and aren’t aware that nobody enters phone numbers anymore. Then they act as if their text was a major inconvenience and say “Thank you for not rejecting me and I hope I didn’t bother you,” often with praying-hands emojis for some reason. That’s usually where I end the conversation and block the number.
Here are a couple of spammers who gave up early:
Spammer: Hi Kevin, I’m Emma.
Dono: Emma who?
* * *
Spammer: Hi Anna, what are you up to tomorrow? Jack has opened a new restaurant. Let’s go see it together.
Dono: I wouldn’t eat at one of Jack’s rat-infested botulism palaces if you paid me.
And that was that. Way to stick up for your friend Jack, spammer.
Sometimes it’ll be a spammer’s first day on the job and you can tell they haven’t completed the training yet:
Spammer: Stephen, are you free this week?
Dono: Sure, every day but Wednesday. What’s up?
Spammer: Assistant.
Spammer: Wrong.
Dono: What are you talking about? Are you in trouble? Have you been kidnapped?
Spammer: I live in Times Square, New York. What about you?
Even the experienced scammers get overconfident sometimes, thinking they can handle numerous calls at once.
Spammer: Is this Mary? We haven’t talked in a while. Are you okay?
Dono: Fine—just got over Covid.
Spammer: I’m sorry. I think I dialed the wrong number. I hope you don’t mind.
Dono: That’s all right. I don’t get many calls since Vern passed away.
Spammer: Thank you. You’re a gentleman.
Dono: Yes, I’m a gentleman named Mary.
This one missed my Ramones joke because he was too busy trying to think of something that am American named Gene would like to do. Like “go outdoors.”
Spammer: Hey.
Dono: Ho. Let’s go.
Spammer: Gene, we plan to go outdoors tomorrow. Are you going?
Dono: Wouldn’t miss it!
Spammer: My niece gave me the wrong number. Sorry. Hope I didn’t disturb your precious time and affect your mood.
Dono: Yes, sadly, I’m no longer in the mood to fall for a crypto scam.
Maybe I should have given that one the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was living in a place where there was a lot of nuclear fallout and had just been given the all clear to go outdoors for the first time in months.
Some of the spammers’ opening lines are oddly specific. One wanted to know if I was going to the winery in Napa Valley tomorrow. Yes, I said—I’ll meet you at the one and only winery in Napa Valley.
Here’s one that just seemed to start in the middle of a conversation. This spammer was obviously not a golfer.
Spammer: If you go, remember to bring a few extra sets of golf clubs. Alice will be there too.
Dono: How many goddamn sets of clubs does Alice need? (And how many sets did this nitwit think I owned?)
Spammer: (sends picture of clubs) You can choose to bring a little more.
Dono: Oh, that Alice. I also need to bring her the $1000 I owe her. If she doesn’t show up can you take it?
Spammer You give it to her yourself.
Dono: OK, but if she breaks any more of my clubs I’m deducting it from the $1000.
Here’s a spammer who just decided to throw everything at the wall to see what might stick:
Spammer: Hi.
Dono: Hello.
Spammer: Is this Adeline? Is that Millie? This is my new number lol.
Dono: It’s Millie. Adeline is taking a shower.
Spammer: Sorry, it doesn’t look like you’re Millie.
Dono: You can see me?
Spammer: Yes.
Dono: That’s some technology I’m not aware of.
Spammer: Are you scared?
Dono: Of what?
Spammer: No.
Dono: Huh?
Spammer: You are an interesting person.
Dono: Obviously.
By the way, I’ve only let one of these conversations get to the point where they spring their trap on me. They can generally tell when I’m on to their game. This one realized pretty quickly that their opening line painted them into a corner:
Spammer: Melissa, I think we’ll have to cancel our sea trip tomorrow.
Dono: What?! No! You do this to me all the time! What’s your lame-ass excuse this time?
Spammer: Sorry, what’s that mean?
Dono: You knew I was looking forward to the sea trip!
I’m assuming that many of these texts are originating from Uzbekistan or somewhere where English is not the main language. They just don’t seem to have the hang of how people speak to each other, to wit:
Spammer: Hi, sweetie. I’m Caitlin. Let’s go golfing together this weekend.
Dono: You have to introduce yourself to people you want to go golfing with? (I should have asked if Alice was going to be there and how many extra sets of clubs she needed.)
Spammer: What do you mean? This isn’t Jenny?
Dono: You have to introduce yourself to your friend Jenny when you want to go golfing with her?
Spammer: Sorry, I lost my friend’s contact information. So I’m not sure if this is her?
Dono: So you just typed in a random number hoping it was your friend Jenny?
Spammer: It’s not a random number. I will check the correct number. I just hope I didn’t disturb your beautiful day!
Dono: OK—hope you find some easy mark to peddle your crypto to.
Spammer: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Dono: Surrrrre you don’t.
Spammer: Hope all goes well for you!
They don’t seem to be bothered by whatever outlandish situation I tell them I’m in at the moment. I once said my weekend plans involved “you know, the usual voodoo ritual” and the spammer’s response was “interesting.” Here’s another one:
Spammer: I’m Makiyo. Is this Ms Linda?
Dono: Yes, but I’m busy.
Spammer: I’m very sorry. I think I entered the wrong number by mistake. I hope it doesn’t bother you.
Dono: Yeah, sorry, we’re in the middle of a hostage situation here. Not the best time to chat.
Spammer: OK, so you’re busy first?
Dono: Yeah, you know how hostage situations are. Lots of hubbub.
Spammer: How should I know?
Dono: Maybe from watching movies?
Spammer: I’m Makiyo. Are you Ms Anne?
Dono: You just asked if I were Ms Linda!
Spammer: Oh.
Sometimes they’ll get to the point where they ask for a picture, and in those case I generally send this one:
This last conversation is my all-time favorite, and I wish it would have gone on a little longer. I picture the spammer frantically searching his training manual for some of these responses.
Spammer: (sends picture of young Asian woman) I am Lin Mi. This is my photo. Do you still have an impression of me?
Dono: I never had an impression of you.
Spammer: Maybe we have met before, but we didn’t have much contact, so we forgot each other. You can tell me your name and let me recall whether we have crossed paths.
Dono: Herbie Hancock.
Spammer: Your name sounds familiar, but I can’t remember where we’ve met before. Would you be willing to share a photo with me so I can remember if we’ve communicated before>
Dono: (sends black-and-white picture of Herbie Hancock) You might remember me from my album Head Hunters.
Spammer: Is this you? Your music album is nice, but I want to see the pictures in color.
Dono: Just Google me. Lots of pictures in color.
Spammer: Sorry sir, I didn’t find it. Could you send me one yourself?
Dono: You couldn’t find a picture of me on Google? That seems sketchy.
You know, if your takeaway from today’s essay is that I should probably be spending my spare time working on the catfishing novel—you are absolutely right.