But — but! — there are also weird moments of intimacy passing through the avenues of commerce.  To wit, a person in Hawaii buys a book, sends me a thank-you note about the book, says, hey, you guys do super work and maybe I’ll donate my books to you when I die, though I live in Hawaii so shipping may be a problem.  Well, I thought this guy was just over the moon with  our wonderful book-selling, so I’m just, like, sure, you can donate your books to us when you die, shipping may be a problem, but, hey, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.  Then Hawaii writes back that her brain is full of tumors and she was actually supposed to be dead two years ago but she stopped chemo and started using a vaporizer and she sent along this cartoon she made:

Well, this is more than I was bargaining for.  More beauty.  More meaning.  I’ve kept up the lines of communication.  We’ve talked about her Uncle Harvey who apparently befriended some stereotypes in New York’s Chinatown.  We’ve both agreed you’ve gotta stay away from that Waikiki bullshit.  And of course we’ve both agreed that THC does, in fact, pass the brain/blood barrier.

To wit:

seemed like a good idea at the time

who's that lady? *sexy* lady.

Then, as if that wasn’t enough for one day, I got a piece in the Travel section of the LA Times about Cape May, NJ, and the birdwatching and Victorian architecture mecca that it is.

Me tired now.  Me go to bed.

huddle up

The job itself is not ideal.  The pay is not great.  The work is not editorial, which was sort of my entire reason for moving here in the first place.  But it is in a bookstore, in fact, the bookstore where I’ve been volunteering for some six months.  So there is some sense of payoff for sweat stains and backaches.  And the bookstore is actually pretty cool, with lots of literary events and concerts (even Bjork).  And it’s a non-profit operation with its sights set on eradicating homeless and HIV/AIDS, so there’s that feel-goodness.  It undoubtedly carries more cache than slinging books at Barnes & Noble or Borders.  And it will help me scratch that nagging itch of “gotta get a job gotta get a job gotta get a job gotta get a job gotta get a job gotta get a job gotta get a job,” which will, in turn, allow me to focus on longer term writing projects such as another book (Deuced 2: Electric Boogaloo?).

the paper chase

And, really, most of my writing life has been spent daily (or nightly) toiling in the salt mines and then cranking out prose in my free time.  A Bukowskian existence of sorts (but without the scarring acne).  It wasn’t until The Los Angeles Times came a’callin’ that I ever smithed words for a well-beyond-livable income.

a fish tale

Which brings me back to birthdays.  September 2007.  The big 3-0 looming large.  A true milestone.  One christened by t-shirts and coffee mugs and knowing looks and nudging elbows and taking stock of one’s life.  I was eying my fourth decade of life saddled with a sizable (though slowly diminishing) credit card debt and a full-time job closed captioning pornography by candlelight (well, at night, anyway).  Not a horrible life, but not a wildly satisfying one, either.  Then, suddenly, my stock shot up.  Just four days before I turned 30, I landed the aforementioned sweet LA Times gig.  A daily newspaper.  A 130-some year old paper.  A fat paycheck.  Debts receded.  Savings ballooned (when you’re starting around zero, ballooning isn’t hard to do).  I was in an office with a bunch of creative people.  Things felt right.  But before I turned 31, I would be out on my ass, thanks to corporate restructuring, executive lunacy, a changing market and a complete lack of foresight.

who's got a tiger by the tail?

Which brings me to September 2008.  Jobless, heartbroken, humiliated (I understand it was just business,  but the whole affair left me with career blue balls), a 31-year-old me pulled up stakes and headed east to New York City, land of plenty, publishing capital of the world, desperate to parlay my brief tenure at LAT into another sweet editorial gig.  Thanks to the sweetness of my recently departed gig, I had money in the bank and a fat (phat?) unemployment claim, so, while I didn’t land any editorial gigs (sweet or otherwise) thanks to an imploding national/global economy and the continuing downward spiral of the publishing industry, I was able to explore this amazing city, as well as the surrounding majesty of the East Coast (D.C., Balto, Montauk, Mystic, Vermont, Hudson Valley, Chesapeake Bay, Cape May, hey, hey, hey) without fretting too much (though, admittedly, I did find time for some frets).  But man cannot live by unemployment claim (or sporadic freelance gigs) alone.

out to sea

Which brings me to September 2009.  After some six months volunteering and taking the occasional lumps at the aforementioned bookstore, I had made a good name for myself (or at least my name was finally known in the bookstore [in truth, that part didn't take six months]) and was tipped off about an employment opportunity with the store.  The first one slipped through my grasp (a part-time gig),  but then an email alerted me to a second, this one  full-time (though, technically, temporary [a three-month prove-your-worth period, which could very well lead to ongoing goings-on]).  I went for it.  I got it.  In this depressed/recessed/shy economy which has seen people living in cars and tents and eating dirt and each other (last two things being totally fabricated), it isn’t so much to ask of me to take a pay cut (even from my unemployment checks) and roll up my sleeves and get some goddam work done.

hi-ho, hi-ho

Besides, there’s always September 2010, when I will turn 33, the age of a crucified Jesus H. Christ.

do you want it? you gotta want it!

But the book’s retention of value got me thinking about my own foray into self-publishing.  I looked up “Deuced”s ISBN number on Amazon and then entered it into the book store’s pre-screening software.  (The computer tells you whether to keep a book, send it to a different used book retailer who will sell it at a lower price but give us a cut of the loot, or not keep it all; the last option meaning the book in question went into the “TG” box, which meant either “to go” or “total garbage,” depending on your level of cynicism.)

I held my breath as the computer processed the number.  Was I a keeper?  Processing, processing, processing (the book store computers are a bit aged).  Then, finally, a response: “Keep it!” (emphasis not in the original).

The decision no doubt came from the fact my Canadian publisher insists that everyone make good money off each sale, which means they keep prices high so there’s plenty to go around.  Oh, Canada, your brutal Socialism gives everyone but the consumer a good deal.  My existential horror (paperback) novel bears a bloated list price of $26.50.

At my 10 year high school reunion a few years ago, I was hawking my freshly minted tome (a box of which sat in my friend’s car [I was on a book tour, with readings at the St. Paul Literacy Council and a futon shop]) and told an old classmate the price and he said, “That doesn’t sound like a independent novel.”  I guess he’s not familiar with the economics of mass production.

But truth be told, it does seem like more of a $10 book.  I think that’s a nice price.  Hell, maybe even $5.  Something nice and simple and in bill denomination.  Amazon, in its infinite wisdom, now offers my book on its Kindle for a mere $7.99.  I just wonder what I get off of a Kindle sale.  I have this sneaking suspicion it’s zero.

Anybody have a Kindle?  I hated the idea of them, then started to maybe warm up to the possiblity, then I saw the screen looks like a fucking Gameboy.

War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy

EXPERIENCED, CONCEPTUALIZED WRITTEN AND (BADLY) BLOGGED

by

Per

Click here to view the embedded video.

What is going on here?  Is it a suggestion that the ride will make you so scared you will puke and shit violently (if liquidly), basically a complete meltdown of the gastrointestinal system?  I’m going to say yes.

"We had a deal!"

The Mystery Shopper saga continues, with the walls closing in. Sure, the whole thing seemed like a scam, what with ol’ Ginger Prior instructing me to take a $4800 cashier’s check and deposit in my bank and then — after keeping $400 for myself (so generous) — I was to take the remaining $4400 to a MoneyGram store (any MoneyGram store, incidentally, whichever one was closest, thereby seemingly negating the focused critique of the Mystery Shopping evaluation [unless, of course, MoneyGram is investigating problems with *every single location in their franchise*]) and send the $4400 to a certain “Retta Hutchins” in Gallopolis, Ohio.

from sea to shining sea

Well, this seemed to have SCAM written all over it, especially with the check arriving in an envelope with a chicken-scratched return address of a company that seems to no longer exist (and also one that is not called anything even close to “Mystery Shoppers”). The envelope was apparently sent from Michigan, the check was from Texas, the money was to go to someone in Ohio. So very scammy. I laughed at the audacity of the scam and went on with my life.

Then my phone rang. From a blocked number.

Can you hear me now?

Well, I’m curious by nature and have also been applying to a shitload of jobs and chasing down some freelance stories, so I answered. That’s when a man with heavy accent explained that he was none other than Bill Johns, the man whose chicken-scratched name adorns the Mystery Shoppers/General Dynamic Systems/University Federal Credit Union cashier’s check. Now the creepiness of the scammer(s) writing out my name and address is compounded by the fact I’m actually talking to the motherfucker.

"so... what are you wearing?"

He wants to know why I haven’t cashed the check yet (not why I haven’t sent in my report). I want to know who General Dynamic Systems is. He’s evasive. I insist. He asks, “Oh, is that the name on the check?” I explain, no, that’s the name on the envelope; there’s a different name on the check. So who is General Dynamic Systems? He asks me to take out my earpiece (for some reason; I am not wearing an earpiece). I thought maybe I had accidentally pressed the speaker phone button, so I take the phone away from my ear and glance at it, but everything seems to be in place. When I return the phone to my ear, the line is dead. Oh, well, I guess I called his bluff, I figure.

But then shortly after, I receive this email:

Subject: Re: Mystery Shopper Evaluation
From: Ginger Prior (Add as Preferred Sender) ?
Date: Fri, Jun 19, 2009 4:35 pm
To: perry@perrycrowe.com

Hello Perry Crowe,
The payment issued out to was to be delivered via ups with the tracking number (j2291781876),amount $4800 and i have sent you the information and details on how to go about the task , so do get back to me with the report as requested i will be waiting to read from you soonest.

Regards
Ginger Prior

Which is almost immediately followed by this email:

Subject: Instructions Mail Once Again
From: Ginger Prior (Add as Preferred Sender) ?
Date: Fri, Jun 19, 2009 4:35 pm
To: perry@perrycrowe.com

Perry Crowe,
payment for the evaluation of Money Gram services has been mailed out and will be delivered via UPS today. You are to cash the Check of $4,800 at your bank and head to any MoneyGram location in your area. You are expected to Evaluate any MoneyGram Location in your
area and send your report immediately.

HOW TO CARRY OUT THE TASK

After cashing the payment you will deduct your $400 commission, after which you will be left with $4,400 , You are now expected to head to
your location with $4,400. MoneyGram will charge you about $150 for the transfer. We expect you to bargain with the operator concerning
the charges to see if it can be reduced or not . After all deductions you are expected to transfer about $4,250. The funds should be sent to
Gallopolis, OH. the name of our Receiving agent in Ohio is below

Name : RETTA HUTCHINS
Address : 815 3rd ave
City : Gallopolis
State : Ohio
Zipcode : 45631

"come on... take it!"

I figure the email is just sort of a last resort, like, well, explaining things over the phone isn’t working, so we’ll pretend there were some technical difficulties and then just re-send the emails and hope he goes for it. Naturally I just ignored the emails.

Then, holy shit, my phone rings today, this time from Georgia, from 678-932-8667 no less. I pick it up and, right off the bat, this guy — again with a thick as molasses accent (Latino? Arabic?) — is on a first name basis with me: Perry? Yes. This is Ginger Prior from Mystery Shoppers.

Ginger?!?!

Ginger is man? Yes, Ginger Prior is a man. Can “Ginger” be a man’s name? Maybe in Tenochtitlan, or Abu Dhabi. I start to feel bad, thinking of the incessant teasing he must’ve gotten in the school system. I also feel bad because, well, this scam is coming apart at the seams but this guy is holding fast.

The connection is really bad and the accent is really thick, so I literally can’t understand a lot of what Ginger is saying, but the gist, as expected, is why I haven’t cashed the check yet. I again inquire about General Dynamic Systems. His answer is a little evasive, but he manages to say something about GDS being a “client” in Michigan (which still doesn’t explain why the check is from Texas [and it also doesn't explain why GDS is listed as "closed" in a google search]). I begin to lecture the guy about how asking someone to deposit a large check into their bank account and then use that money to wire funds to an unknown party is, frankly, asking a lot, especially when none of the received documentation contains anything bearing the name of the company you were supposedly doing business with in the first place. Still, Ginger insists that all these concerns are nullified by the fact that the emails explained how this was all going to go down, the part about the fat check and the bank deposit and the money transfer. Using similar logic to a certain writing contest, Ginger seems to think that if you explain how you are going to fuck someone over, the fuckee has no recourse. All in all, if someone insists on thoroughly explaining something to you, and money is involved, they are almost certainly preparing to do you dirt.

Well, the connection was really bad, and Ginger was unyielding (even while being almost impossible to understand), so I offered to send the check back and when Ginger didn’t seem interested in that, I dropped a few hints about how suspicious this whole thing was and how maybe I should report it to someone and then insisted that “it wasn’t going to happen” and hung up.

Will that be the end of it? I would say yes, but Ginger has already surprised me on a few occasions.

"Why haven't you cashed the check yet?"

it's a gas

This morning I finally got a reply from Ginger Prior, that minx:

Subject: FINAL INSTRUCTIONS ON MONEYGRAM EVALUATION
From: Ginger Prior (Add as Preferred Sender) ?
Date: Wed, Jun 17, 2009 8:52 am
To: perry@perrycrowe.com

Perry Crowe,
payment for the evaluation of Money Gram services has been
mailed out and will be delivered via UPS today. You are to cash the
Check of $4,800 at your bank and head to any MoneyGram location in
your area. You are expected to Evaluate any MoneyGram Location in your
area and send your report immediately.

HOW TO CARRY OUT THE TASK

After cashing the payment you will deduct your $400 commission, after
which you will be left with $4,400 , You are now expected to head to
your location with $4,400. MoneyGram will charge you about $150 for
the transfer. We expect you to bargain with the operator concerning
the charges to see if it can be reduced or not . After all deductions
you are expected to transfer about $4,250. The funds should be sent to
Gallopolis, OH. the name of our Receiving agent in Ohio is below

Name : RETTA HUTCHINS
Address : 815 3rd ave
City : Gallopolis
State : Ohio
Zipcode : 45631

NB :

We expect you to be very vigilant and time cautious while you carry
out your task. The following should be put into consideration the
following

(1.) Overall time duration of the transfer

(2.) Exact time the funds was transferred

(3.) Customer service performance and customer friendliness

Every activity of Mystery Shoppers remains a secret between you and
Mystery Shoppers. As as the company reserves the right to every
documentation and information which you gather on behalf of the
company.

YOU ARE TO GET BACK WITH THE FOLLOWING DETAILS

(a) The 8 digit transfer code or Reference number and the exact amount
sent after the transfer was made (this should be to the nearest cent)

(b) A comprehensive and detailed report should be sent my email
immediately you evaluate the location. Additional remarks or comments
will be appreciated in your final report.

(c) The name and address of the locations should be added along with
the name of the attendant .

We expect you to get it done immediately, so we can file our report to
meet our deadline. I will be looking forward to your report.

Ginger Prior
Mystery Shoppers

"Your mission, if you choose to accept it..."

And, sure, enough I walk to the kitchen a little later and this envelope had been slid under my door:

it's what's inside that counts

They splurged and went with Next Day Air. Hmm, maybe they are legitimate. But I’ve always been a little suspicious of chickenscratch. Like it denotes a diseased, rudimentary mind at work. Like Gummo. Or a Troma film. I’m not saying the people behind Gummo or Troma have diseased or rudimentary minds. Just that the end results feel like being raped by Sloth from the Goonies.

"Hey, you guys (I'm going to force myself on you)!"

Still, I wanted to see this scam in its totality, so I tore open the envelope and feasted my eyes on a $4,800.00 cashier’s check:

the poisoned apple

Okay, suddenly I’m not only dealing with Mystery Shoppers, an apparent division of General Dynamics Systems (of Sterling Heights, Michigan)…

View Larger Map

…but the money is coming from University Federal Credit Union in Austin, Texas…

View Larger Map

And the check is signed by Bill Johns (more chickenscratch), and has a remitter by the name of Manuel Alejandro Munoz.

And, of course, the check is actually made out to “Perry Browe” (pronounced “bro”), which is a pretty cool name. I wonder if it would prohibit me from being able to deposit the check. Not that I would. No, I’m afraid this is the end of the line for you and me, Ginger Prior. You have a fun, kinda saucy name and I can imagine you coming to the main stage, but then I think you would get there and you would be some guy named Bill Johns and you would knife me in the face.

"would you fuck me? i'd fuck me."

I feel kinda good about getting these guys to sink the money into sending this check next-day air, and I wonder if they’ll follow up with me when I never cash the check. It’s just creepy to see the physical evidence of these scammers’ existence, thinking about Ginger Johns hunched over a desk, scratching out my name and address.

Like Cara said after my earlier post, who has time to come up with these scams, set up the background, like General Dynamics Systems?  Interestingly, GoogleMaps says that General Dynamic Systems is closed. Sneaky, Billy boy.  Drag the good name of General Dynamic Systems through the mud just because they’re not around to defend themselves.  I mean, those people have been creating and implementing generally dynamic systems since you were in short pants and now you’re gonna do them like that?

I do like the non-specific nature of the name, though.

“What kind of systems do you work with?”

“Dynamic.”

“Oh, really? In what way are they dynamic?”

“Oh, you know, generally.”

I used to work at a company named “PeopleSupport.” We had a company picnic once, hosted by a party company called “Event Solutions.” Like mayo on wonder bread served by a robot.

I’m tired of all these scams.  There’s that bullshit with the robocalls about auto-warranty.  And there’s one about credit cards.  I pressed the button to talk to an agent on that one and I asked what card they were referring to and the guy said, “Any of them.”  Holy shit.  The scammers are such dicks, but they’re also so lazy about the scam that you almost feel that anyone who really gets taken by one of them really should’ve figured it out beforehand.  But it sucks because these scams put everyone (or most people) on guard with telemarketers and, even if the telemarketer has a legitimate offer, you just feel like they’re trying to take you.  It’s like walking the streets in L.A.  Anyone who actually tries to talk to you is going to end up asking you for money, so even if a person has a legitimate need, you’re probably going to just ignore them.  The bad apples spoil the bunch and the world grows a little colder.

"i just don't want to walk."

Note: It should have closed captions, so if it doesn’t, click that button with the up-pointing triangle in the lower right hand corner of the video and select CC.