• by George Simpson , Featured Contributor, January 5, 2005

Warning: Satire Ahead!

A WSJ.com "SPAM OF THE WEEK" has resulted in a multi-million dollar windfall for a media buyer at Carat Interactive.

In their weekly online column, Wall Street Journalists Tim Hanrahan and Jason Fry comment, generally in a humorous way, on a particularly offensive or idiotic spam they or a reader has received. Recently they wrote about:

"... a typical Nigeria-style scam, (that) shows a refreshing dose of spam self-awareness. In the e-mail, an apparently crooked aid worker in Iraq asks our help in transporting a 'large amount' of money found in an abandoned house. The writer assures us the money is legal and legit, though for appearances' sake he wishes to keep our dealings discreet. Reassuringly, he adds as a footnote: 'I know there may be scams ... flying here and there on the Internet but certainly, this is not one. Please do not fail to understand that in spite of all that, opportunities of this kind still abound.'"

"I make a habit of responding to every easy-money spam I get," says Kinley Segal, who has been with Carat Interactive since graduating from Rutgers (the state university of New Jersey) last June with a degree in sports marketing. "Up until now, I've probably lost in the neighborhood of $600,000, but I kept playing the odds and sure enough, this one paid off."

Ms. Segal retrieved a copy of the spam noted in the WSJ and followed up with the sender who, as it turned out, was a crooked aid worker in Iraq.

"It was a pretty standard exchange of e-mails where we danced around one another; I wanting to make sure he was a crooked aid worker and he wanting to assure himself that I was not the FBI or Bill McCloskey," said Ms. Segal over coffee at the Ritz Carlton. "As usual, he asked for a good faith payment to establish my sincerity and, as I always do, I wire transferred $10,000 to his bank account in Nigeria. Isn't that weird for an Iraqi to do his banking in Africa?"

"That's usually the end of it and I never hear again from the spammer. But this time about 24 hours later, he wired $3.5 million to my account at Citibank," she continued. "I wasn't sure it was real or even legal, so I asked the bank to check into it and they called me in a few hours and said that their investigators in Iraq confirmed the money was found in an abandoned house and, as my contact had said "is legal and legit."

Ms. Segal sent a gift basket of wine and cheese and a thank you note to Tim Hanrahan and Jason Fry who could only keep the cheese due to Dow Jones rules against accepting gifts and gratuities. In an e-mail Mr. Fry said, "I think maybe your entire story is a scam to con unsuspecting people into answering these nefarious spams. How do I know you aren't contacting me from Nigeria?"

"For years, my relatives said I was foolish to answer all those spams and to send money to strangers. They were really upset the six times I went to Amsterdam to make contact with my Nigerian former head of state's wife and or son," said Ms. Segal, picking up the hefty tab at the Ritz. "But you know, there are two ways to look at the world. I choose to be positive and trust people. Have I been burned? Sure, lots of times. But I have 3.5 million reasons to think people - even mysterious spam-senders - are basically good at heart."

Ms. Segal intends to keep working at Carat, but will trade in her four roommates (who share a one-bedroom apartment) for a spacious townhouse in Riverdale. Since her windfall, Ms. Segal has noted an uptick in e-mails from anonymous experts offering to help her invest her newfound wealth. But she is keeping more of the proceeds in a cash account.

"Hey, you never can tell what will be in my in-box tomorrow," she concludes with a satisfied smile.