The Tripping Gangsta

Letter from Scammer

I am Mrs.Joan  Gates from United Kingdom, married to Dr. James R. Gates who worked with Texaco Oil Company in Nigeria before he died in a ghastly motor accident on his way to a Board meeting.
Below attachment contains full details, read and reply immediately.

 My Response

Mrs. Gayes,

This is just TOO creepy. The same thing that happened to your husband happened to me! Well, not exactly the same since I'm alive and he's dead, but it's eerily similar. What's worse is that it happens to me every time I go to a Board Meeting. What's worse than that is that I'm not even a member of any Board!

I was on my way to a Board Meeting back in February and during my walk I tripped over a blade of grass and dropped a bunch of books.  

Then, in early March, I was in New Haven, Connecticut, carrying a bunch of boxes to a Board Meeting in London and I tripped again.

I got a bit of an abrasion on that one, but still didn't die.

It wasn't long after that where tripping or falling was just a constant thing. I could just be standing still, minding my own business, and not even going to a Board Meeting or anything, and I'd just tip over.

But the one fall that truly reminds me of your deceased husband's incident, is when I was trying to become a gangsta. I had to go through a bunch of different things while working it out.

The first thing I did was work on using weapons while having my pants riding low, but I just couldn't get the hang of it.

Next, I tried wearing full colors and walking down the street while looking fly, but that didn't work either.

Finally, I picked up a pager and got in with a local group of white guys who were trying to become gangstas. One day I got a hit on my pager and called up. There was to be a meeting in Northeast in one of my friend's basement. It wasn't a Board Meeting, per se, but, again, I've never been part of a Board. Either way, I was all the way across town and the meeting was to start in ten minutes. Being the responsible young man I was, I decided to hustle and get to the meeting without delay. Sadly, I still wasn't very versed in the whole "gangsta pants" thing and I ended up tripping.

I wasn't injured; mostly, I was just embarrassed. But it was then that the gangsta in me died and the vanilla me came back to life, metaphorically speaking, of course.

So as you can see, there is really no similarity whatsoever between what happened to your husband and what happened to me.

I still trip a lot, and all my friends tend to trip with me, but it's a little different these days.

-Buzz E. McTripalot

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