A Risk-Free Offer
Do you believe in astrology? Me neither. Well, let me clarify. I’m willing to listen (preferably read) other points of view that are well-presented. And some astrologers do write well. Two of them made their appeal to me recently via unsolicited emails. They both alerted me to a tidy sum of money heading my way—in the next 7 days. One put the amount at exactly $87,801. How fortuitous! It would be coming in pretty much when I could put it to good use. But, alas, to make fanciful plans requires a fanciful imagination. And I am seriously lacking in that department.
No, I am a boring realist. I like to think of myself as a thoughtful logician, not grounded in flights of fantasy, but I do enjoy the theater of the absurd from time to time.
Back to my dueling astrologers. I have no idea how they go about reading their charts, numbers, and other data. But these two came up with nearly identical predictions, leading me to suspect they could be one and the same person. Or worse, collaborators. Still, they both (one a man the other a lady) had kindly-looking faces, exquisite writing skills, and they both told me I had been short-changed in this life. They each added that my health and love life would improve by leaps and bounds very soon. They pretty much had my “to do” list, if not my entire “bucket list,” nailed down with those three issues.
But then came the other stuff. Both had been communicating with my guardian angel and other angels very high on their organizational charts. They all seemed to agree that my misfortunes in this life were attributable to an evil person in a prior life who had somehow overlaid his misfortunes onto me, and only they knew how to break the curse. That sounded like a pretty good excuse for me to use in my future negotiations with others about my shortcomings. After all, who could fact-check them?
By the way, I also could not fact-check their identities or their locations. They had only first names, and VPN protected locations. But that could have been just the detective in me acting up again. And there were those two angelic faces to consider.
Then came their fast balls: In order for me to break the spell and open the flood gates to health, wealth,and love all I had to do was to write down three wishes, and email them in. They would enter their private chambers, light candles, and say a few ancient blessings, and the doors to the room where wishes come true would open up for me. Plus there was no fee at all to me. Donations, however, were acceptable. And for my convenience, all I had to do was to submit my credit card information—provided my donation met a certain minimum amount. The “send” button for my wish list was intractably linked to my credit card info.
Still, they were thinking ahead. They promised that their service was “risk-free,” and all monies were refundable if I was not satisfied with their service.
The free-thinking skeptic in me swam around in my head. I made them a counter-offer: I would send triple their fee, but only after the fact, and if that $87,801 check arrived in 7 days (and did not bounce).
They changed the subject and doubled-down in their plea by letting me know about the long hours of work they had already invested in me in reading and studying my profile, often extending well into the wee hours with their consultations, and other such details. Moreover, they relied on donations for.living and such, and few things in this life are as risk-free as astrologers who know more about me than I do.
"Those poor helpless chartologists," I thought. I wondered how far $87,801 will go these days. I quietly shut down my computer, turned on my TV, and watched a re-run of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off to gain a little more insight into life, its travails, and how to spot the good guys from the bad. You can’t be too careful about offers that come to you by emai. And even Reader's Digest assures us that "Laughter is the best medicine."
P.S. Please don’t send me your pyschologist’s name and number, and I won’t send my astrologers your email address. What’s fair is fair.
