- Shanshu's post about chain letters prompted me to write this post about something I did. I am at once ashamed and secretly delighted at what I did. I paid for it for a year.
- Let me walk you through it...
- I have a friend ... well, an ex-friend, for reasons that shall become apparent, named SBH (for "Screaming Bobble-Head" ; a story for another time, but this image should help set the tone), who always always always forwards emails. I hate the forward. I loathe it. My chic-nana friends like Leigh Yung Li and Quilting Girl at least clean up their jokes before they send them to me, and they never send me touchy-feely stuff.
- I particularly loathe the forwards that say some queer shit like, "This angel loves you" or "This ___ wants to give you a hug of love and support!" (insert own word in the blank: puppy, kitten, homeless guy). I'm anyway not a fan of angels, fairies, crystals, etc.; when coupled with the insult of 11.5 million other email addresses on top and a million of these thingies >>>>>>> in front of the text, it's a sure thing that email's going in the recycle bin before some crusty old hobo can get his loving arms around me.
- So, SBH was one of the top offenders. I did ask her a few times not to include me on her list, and she would comply, then forget. Then we had an incident in which she threatened to beat me up, which is comical, because she is 4'10", and I pushed her down on a tile floor, and she kicked her clog into a decorative ceramic bowl and broke it. All of this took place at a very classy teacher party, where obviously alcohol was being served. Oops, I promised I'd tell that story another time. But it's important you know that I was getting tired of her and her childish ways, which is why I did what I did.
- One day a year or so ago, I received an email from SBH, and here is what it said.
- To: Spinning Girl
From: Screaming Bobble Head
Re: FW:FWD:Fw:Fw:FW:Fwd:FW:FW: Help us find Goldy, PLEASE!!!! DO NOT DELETE!!!!
- Inside, there were about 23.7 inches of email addresses (I measured) followed by SBH's two cents (seems far, but worth a try! :-) love, SBH) [p.s. I hate when people put noses on their emoticons. It's :) , dammit!] and this very touching notice:
- Our cocker spaniel Goldilocks has been missing for 2 weeks. She was last seen on 8/22/04 in the Elm Street area. She is a 3-year old female who answers to her name and is very affectionate. If you find her, please call us! Forward this to all of your friends!!!
Major Lee & Vera Upsetten
- Well, I had had it. With SBH, the stupid forwards, with all of it. Now comes the part where I did the thing.
- I hit "reply all" and wrote:
A coyote ate her.
- This may have been a mistake. In hindsight, it was a bit cruel, because at its last point that email landed in the laps of the original owners, who were probably distraught enough, and probably have a cute little pig-tailed five-year-old at home, crying herself to sleep every night. In my heart of hearts, I hope that Goldilocks made it home from Connecticut to Illinois on her bloody little paws and crept into her dog bed someday soon thereafter. I hope the coyotes left her alone (even though I love the idea of coyotes, as I've mentioned in the past, death by canid gnawing just can't be pleasant). But what is wrong with all the people between Illinois & here who forwarded that email to their whole address book?!?!?!?!?
- I feel somewhat justified in my angry reply, even though I realize that it was really just the final impetus for changing my name from pencil to ink on Satan-man's roster. If I believed in Hell, I suppose I'd be worried, but I don't, so I'll just worry that maybe a coyote will get a hold of my carcass before it's been properly tucked away in the soil.
- The worst part of the story, at least for me, is that I paid the Piper. Boy, did I. I got mountains of hate-mail in my inbox from all of those people; people who were angry that I included them, as well as people who thought I was a terrible person. Even some animal lovers, if you can believe it! After a while, if I saw a name I didn't recognize, I'd just delete it, but in the beginning I would read them and then feel so bad about myself I would wear a hair shirt. Well, not so much wear it, as make an appointment for a half-day at the spa for highlights and deep conditioning; maybe even a pedicure.
- The happy ending to the story is that it was the last time I ever heard from SBH. No great loss there, since she had threatened my life with her little golf-ball fists. I do wish I knew about the dog, though; I really do hope she made it.
- Can you maybe forward this post to everyone you know and help me find out?
- Disclaimer: Failure to mention Hurricane Rita, the Oxygen Bus, Sky Blue, or Kate Moss does not indicate lack of compassion on the part of this Blogger. Inflicting false death by coyote on an innocent made-up spaniel may, however.