So I called my friend Joe and told him about the email, and my theory. “No, I don’t think so,” said Joe. “I think they are taking about motorcycle babes. Better go carefully – I’ve known some bikers in a past life and they can be a pretty rough crowd. Tattoos, wild drunken parties, free-for-all no-holds-barred fist fights – and the men are even worse! Better send me the email, and I’ll take a look.” So I forwarded Joe the note.
Joe called me back a few minutes later, and said “Let’s talk about this. How about 6:30 at Legend Brewing Company?” Well, if there is a Legend brown ale involved, I’m there, and so I was.
“Look,” Joe started out as we took our first gulp of the cold, delicious beer, “this is a scam. Remember that email you got a few years back, claiming they could add three inches to a certain body part with this miracle medication?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I remember thinking that they meant they could make my legs three inches longer, and I almost sent them $500. I mean, I thought maybe I could run faster with longer legs.”
Joe shook his head, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Yeah, I remember having to explain that to you. Brother! And then last year, that email from that Nigerian guy? He asked for a bank account number where he could put $10,000,000 in for you to smuggle it out of the country, and in return, you’d get to keep 25%?”
I grimaced. “Don’t remind me. My wife is still pretty annoyed about that $2,000 the guy took from our account. But this latest email, the sexy biker babes, that sounds kind of genuine, don’t you think? I don’t want to meet them because I’m a married guy, but do you think I should reply and say ‘no thanks,’ just to be nice? Sexy biker babes wouldn't scam anyone, would they? I don’t want to hurt their feelings.”
“You know, Art, you’ve been saying you kind of want a new job. If we can find a village without an idiot, I think you can have that job,” Joe said.
“Wow, do you really think so, Joe?”
“Oh, definitely,” Joe said. “Now, about this email. It is not an invitation to join a cycle team, or even a real email at all. It is a scam. They want money. Think of it as coming from a fake drug company or from a fictitious Nigerian baron. Trust me, delete it!”
We finished our ales and went our separate ways, and when I got home, I took Joe’s advice and deleted the email. But somewhere tonight, I am sure that there must be a sexy biker babe sobbing herself to sleep!
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