I don’t usually share mail without first obtaining permission from the writer, but I’m making an exception with this column. What follows is a note from a correspondent in Sierra Leone whom I suspect has sent this letter to other folks. I’ve left her syntax and grammar intact, as I have enough trouble with my own.
Readers, if you don’t see a column next week, you’ll know that I’ve taken Mrs. Christina Coulibaly up on her offer, and am practicing my charitable instincts from Barcelona.
I’ve interspersed some of my thoughts — in bold — with hers. Enjoy.
My Dearest Richard Levey. (Warning bell number one: Usually when I get a letter that starts out like this, the next line is “I hope you have a good lawyer, because…”)
How are you today? (Fine, thanks, and my lawyer says “hi.”) I really don’t know the reason of your silent does it mean that you did not received my first mail? (Sorry about the delay. Ever have one of those moods where you just didn’t want to talk with a sub-Saharan Africa spam artist?) or you don’t want to respond, to let you know this is part of charity work. (Charity begins at home, so why are you using my work e-mail address?)
Regarding to my first mail to you (Drat that corporate e-mail filter! What word do you think caused it to be blocked — “Dearest” or “Levey”?), my reason of contacting you is for you to help me and fulfill the promise and vow that I have made (Don’t be so hard on yourself about unfulfilled vows. I’m only 20 pounds away from my 2005 goal of losing 15 pounds.). Meanwhile let me introduce myself to you once again. I am Mrs. Christina Coulibaly the wife of Chief General Coulibaly Daniel who died in plane crach with our four children on one of his trip to Clivert (Hmm, I can’t find Clivert on my atlas. Perhaps your husband is one of those wretches who “is just running out for some cigarettes.” Have you checked the balance of your joint bank accounts recently?)
After the incident I fell sick for years now although before then I was working with the Serrie-Leaone Gold and Diamond Store Keeper under government and when my husband died I decided not to re-marry again. (I hope you at least played the field a little bit. Empty nest, and all that. Nothing serious, of course, but a little frolic now and then never hurt anyone.)
The one that bothers me most is my sickness although I have attend a lot of spiritual churches to save my life and the result came that I have to share all what I have to different countries (I’m delighted that you chose a wealthy country such as the United States to receive your charity, rather than those connivers in Ethiopia or Somalia. I trust Saudi Arabia can expect some of your largesse, too?)
After this that I will be heal if I will be heal it may be by the grace of God meanwhile my sickness is a spiritual sickness (And therefore not covered by the Sierra Leone Gold and Diamond Store health plan, right?) which so many doctors have confirm that I have only few days to stay on this earth (Uh oh… when did I receive this again?) so I have to be fast to do what I soppose to do although I’m not afraid of death because I know where I’m going. (Wish I could say the same, but as long as I’m guaranteed that it won’t be certain parts of Brooklyn I sleep relatively soundly at night.)
This is what I want to do, I have a place I keep six drums of Gold Dust. (You’re going to be very popular the next time Fleetwood Mac tours). Each drum contains 250bags. I want to sell this Gold and compleat the prophecy that the prophet impose (Why can’t I ever get prophets to impose on me like that? Moses once gave me a stock tip for Peoples’ Express Airline. After it went bankrupt, all he would say was “Think I would have pulled that Red Sea stunt if I knew anything about airlines?) on me by having charity organization on my name in your care (You beautiful, brilliant woman: Charity really DOES begin at home! When do I get my bags of gold dust?) that will be exciting in your care in your country. (If I find myself with 250 bags of gold dust, it will indeed be exciting, but my country will be Spain, most likely somewhere on the northern coast.)
You will be suprise how I got your contact, I got your email and telephone number through dream (Not surprising at all. In my dream I am married to Salma Hayek, who converted to Judaism for the occasion. Like you, I followed my dream. Unlike you, I now have a restraining order against me.) although I will like you to re-confirm to me your telephone number because I have been calling but the line is not going through (Alas, a while ago I put my number on the federal do-not-call list. I guess your six drums of gold dust qualified your attempt as a commercial call.)
Now I am in the hospital that is why I was unable to write you all this while. (I hate a hospital that doesn’t provide souvenir pens. I’ll bet you don’t have a Gideon Bible in your nightstand, either. Swing by the next Direct Marketing Association annual conference and we’ll set you up right — for the pens, at least.)
I will need your urgent respond in this regards for me to know how I can send you some money to arrange yourself and come and meet me here for more instruction I espect your respond and you let me know what it will cost you to come and meet me here as regards to the urgency I required you give me the total cost of your flight (Sorry, but I don’t think American Airlines will accept bags of gold dust in return for a seat. Not even in coach. May I have your American Express card number, along with its expiration date?) and other requirement for you to come because now my sickness is getting out of hand. (So switch hands.)
thanks,Z
yours faithfully,
Mrs Christina Coulibaly
You can call me on this hospital line +225 03264125 and ask of Mrs. Christina Coulibaly in the 6th floor emargency ward room nine. Get well soon. If this response is too late, may I search the lining of your coffin for the bags of gold dust? I’ll give them a good home.
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