No thanks. I don’t want to meet Lidia

So long as you have an internet connection you will never be truly alone. You can filter calls and some emails, but not all.

So long as you have an internet connection you will never be truly alone. Caller I.D. screens those who try to reach me by phone. Unless I recognize the caller’s name, or the displayed number, I don’t answer. If the caller is unknown, ditto.

If the number displayed begins with 1-800 or an area code outside of B.C., I google the number to see where the call originates. Then I ignore it and delete the number.

Calls purported to be from banks, the Canada Revenue Agency, or grandsons stranded in some foreign country and in need of quick cash to get themselves out of a jam – those calls I never receive.

I don’t have a grandson, only granddaughters, both of whom I keep in close enough touch with to know they’re not out of the country, and if they were, both have been brought up to bankroll their travels before they leave home. It’s unlikely either one would find herself stuck in Africa or Thailand with a maxed out debit card.

Despite my server’s screens and my mac’s built in protection, however, occasionally a junk email creeps in along with welcome emails.

That’s how this email arrived this morning:

“I am trusty, smart, beautiful girl who loves life and wants to share it with her loved.

“My I.D.: (followed by a six digit number and a .com address I never heard of and don’t wish to know more about).

“I want to feel wanted, loved and cherished. Are you courageous and independent man?

“I would be happy to meet you. I hope you will be my second part.

“As a woman I’m delicate. I’m waiting for you, my dear. Bye, Lidia.”

The off-putting suspicious features in this email are numerous.

For starters, I’m not a man. Wherever this person located my email address should have offered enough information about me to give her a clue. Which reveals how very special I am in this writer’s address book, and how thoughtfully she chose me. If this is a sample of the degree of “smart” and caring this writer might offer, why would I allow this interloper into my life?

Am I a courageous and independent man? Not likely. Would I be happy to meet her? Hell, no. Will I be her second part? Not a chance, regardless of which part she’d expect me to fulfill.

How delicate is a woman who would email a total stranger without even being sure of her target’s sex? She’s too lazy to conduct rudimentary research into gender. Laziness isn’t an endearing personality trait.

The word ‘bye’ is a common vernacular in Newfoundland but I wouldn’t chalk that up to anyone living on or from The Rock. More likely it’s her feeble attempt to be chummy, breezy, one of the popular people. Or an exaggerated spelling error.

If she’d read any of my on-line comments – I’ve posted dozens on newspapers across the country – she’d know I value proper grammar and correct spelling.

First impressions are important. This email doesn’t leave a good impression with me. For me to want, and learn to love and cherish someone with the flaws this email portrays he (not she) would have to reveal qualities like honesty, integrity, kindness, faithfulness, industry, common sense, and a long list of compatibility factors, factors that show up little by little as two people spend time together, not itemized like job experience in a resumé.

A run-of-the-mill come-on like this email has all the appeal of a generic letter-to-the-editor copied to 40 newspapers across the country.

It fails to fit anywhere, guaranteeing it will end in wastebaskets, where it belongs.

Claudette Sandecki has her finger on the ‘delete’ key from her home in Thornhill, B.C.


Terrace Standard

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