You’ve got to believe this. I am a very special person, and I can prove it.
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Every few days since I acquired my computer, I have been told that I have been specially selected by some maltreated widow in Nigeria, because I have been strongly recommended as an astute businessman who can be respected and trusted to invest fifteen million dollars.
Since I received the first letter telling me how important I am, I have accumulated enough US dollars to buy the whole of New Zealand.
I told the Nigerians that and I can’t be bothered with any more millions.
Then, somebody wrote to me from Holland telling me that I had won half a million Euros in an Internet lottery.
I had been specially selected to be given a ticket in this special lottery – and it would only cost me 500 Euros in legal and administrative fees.
I felt quite excited about that for a while.
Then a fellow with an accent that could have come from anywhere between Indonesia and Afghan-istan phoned me to tell me that because I am a special person I have been selected to receive a special offer to do something with my telephone.
Yesterday morning a charming lady phoned to tell me that she had selected me to receive a sample water cooling machine.
“Water? What’s that?” I said, then something happened to the phone.
Then, in my morning mail I received a big envelope filled with bits of paper and a friendly letter telling me that I have been a loyal and valued special customer, so amongst the bits of paper I will find a gold sticker ( ordinary people only get silver stickers – that’s what the letter said) and it will entitle me to buy something at a special price.
But that’s not all ... I have received (only because I am a special person) complimentary credit cards and membership cards, special discount offers for pizza, special offers to put stuff down on my driveway, or clean it, or to have a holiday some special place, or get some terrific wine.
I even have people knocking on my door to tell me that because I am a special person, I will be “saved” if I follow their recommendations.
They never tell me what I will be saved from.
Don’t tell me that you have been told you are special, too.
There can’t be two of us who are as special as all that, but my wife tells me that I am special, and I can believe that.
I’m getting a bit canny now.
If a fellow with a funny accent calls me around evening meal time, and starts the conversation with “Hullo Mistar William. How are you today?” I know instantly that he wants to sell me something, and he doesn’t have to tell me that I am special, because I already know that.
So I tell him or her I’m busy.
*With apologies to Chrissie Hynde and James Honeyman Scott, writers of Brass In Pocket, recorded by The Pretenders