I remember the first email he ever sent me, it was from firstname.lastname@example.org. The subject line was “stay harder longer”. I figured it was some slutty spambot aimlessly firing into the inboxes of any takers. I normally didn’t respond to spam and just deleted it if my filter didn’t catch it… but for some reason, I responded to this one;
Date: January 11th 2007
Subject: If I Had One I’d Slap You With It
Dear Big Package @ Viagra,
As a fellow marketer and lover of sex, I must say, I am absolutely appalled at your total lack of targeting ability. Get it together… You’re firing blanks man! I do not own or wish to own a cock! And if you knew that, perhaps you would spam me with something a little more relevant like a giant dildo (since you seem to love cock so much) or anti-bitch pills, or maybe even one of those man pillows that hugs you when you sleep. Something…
Do not email me ever again!
A few days later I received a reply from a guy named Michael Adcock, who’s email was ironically email@example.com. He introduced himself as the recipient of my email and had the balls to ask me out on a date. I couldn’t believe that I was being asked out by a fucking spambot! A spambot with an email address of MADCOCK at that!!! I had to go… Just for the story alone.
He drove 6 hours to meet me without even knowing anything about me aside from the fact that I didn’t have a penis. I arranged to meet him in a coffee shop ten minutes from my house. I held up a sign that said “I’m All Yours Spambot” and every time a male walked through the door I made sure he could see it. I don’t think the sign was very well received in the coffee shop though because it was making people very uncomfortable.
Finally a frantic looking quasi-geek in his early thirties walked in clueless and sweaty. He was wearing an Atari Shirt and a pair of Cargo pants. I knew it was him. He saw my sign and turned a hundred shades of Red before heading over to the table. He sat down and we made it through the first 15 minutes of formalities.
Just when I thought the conversation was going to get interesting, the mother fucker had the balls to say “how’d you like to come and work for me?”
And that’s when I stood up and said “What do I look like, a fucking spam princess? Do I look like I belong in a can?! NO I will not work for you!! I thought we were here to talk about prolonged erections, mad cocks, and sex! I’m a writer, not a spammer! Fuck! Thanks for nothing buddy!”
And although I never quite got the story that I was hoping for, I always laugh when I see a Viagra ad sitting in my inbox… and then I laugh some more when I think about the 12 hours of driving that Madcock did to meet some random bitch on the internet who he thought could sell some penis hardener!!
*Sigh* life is funny sometimes, isn’t it?!