Finally, the day has come. My adult life will be forever changed as I know it. The subject line in my inbox reads, "African prince seeks trustable American to oversea big monies." It is addressed from an African man by the name of "Desmond Tutu." I stop for a moment feeling I recongnize this name, but then the thought passes. I think these sincere words are written with me in mind.As I read further the instructions unfold. I find all I need to do is provide the good prince with my bank account and routing numbers. I respond, "Greetings Desmond I received your message, I am a trustworthy American looking to help Africa and her princes."
I cannot pin why this prince has chosen me to be his financial ambassador. I guess it makes sense given the instability in this region of the world. There are probably a lot of poor people in Africa, and they want to take my prince for his monies. However, I am middle class. I reside just between fast food and fine dining, I live more of a Chili's (the restaurant) lifestyle. It is a man like me who would be perfect to "manage" this prince's fortune. A wealthy man would have not the time nor the motivation, but the guy who dines at Applebees's has a little more to desire.
This seems like a move that would be wise for me. I take action, providing him with all my financials. I am suppose to receive the first 20 million of 40 within 2 days of providing my digits. I couldn't believe it, in 2 days I would be Big Pimping like Jay Z in that music video.
As it stands, it has been two weeks and no word. This man "Desmond" has profoundly changed my life. I now live on the street with a man named Charles or Demon depending on which personality is present. I really hate that guy Desmond. This is what I get for helping out Africa I guess.
