There is evil on the internet and we all need to be wary

Don’t fall for the scam key. IMAGE: GETTY IMAGES

I am not much into computers although I have a laptop which I treat as a fancy typewriter able to send messages.

I have read about scams, of course, but presumed my computer blocks out anything with naughty words or demands for money.

But recently, I had my first experience of this nefarious crime.

The email appeared to be from an old friend I haven’t heard from for many years but rather oddly began with: ‘‘Unable to get in touch over the phone due to a serious throat pain caused by tonsillitis.’’

Here is the rest of the email:

‘‘It’s good to hear from you. I need to get an Apple iTunes gift card for my friend whose birthday happens to be today. She’s battling with Stage 3 metastasized breast cancer; she’s having a difficult time at the moment. But I can’t do this now and trying to purchase it online proved abortive. I was wondering if you could help me get it from any store around you. And I’ll reimburse you back.

Kindly let me know if you can handle this so I can tell you the amount and how to get it to me.

Thanks.

[Old mates name]’’

I was in a hurry, so foolishly fell into the trap and replied:

‘‘Can’t help though as there are no shops in Patearoa and I don’t even know what an Apple iTunes gift card is!

Regards

Jim.’’

Later, in a more leisurely hour, I examined the original email and suspicion grew.

Firstly, the old mate would never omit a greeting to open his email. That it started with ‘‘It’s good to hear from you,’’ was a signal I’d missed. It was probably 10 years since we exchanged emails.

The heart-rending detail of the lady’s medical condition should have alerted me. It smacks of the type of message which polluted the internet in the early days. You know the sort of thing — ‘‘Four of my seven children urgently need treatment for life-threatening ailments which can only be carried out in New York. This will cost many thousands of dollars which I just don’t have. Can you, kind sir, help out?’’

Thousands must have been swindled by believing such rubbish and sending money to the rascals who wrote it.

Back to my email. How could buying something online turn out to be abortive?

And isn’t the last sentence a mishmash of English, reflecting the stuff you hear from those struggling to learn the language? My old mate, on the other hand, is one of the best public speakers I know.

I realised that my reply, thankfully without any banking details, was now in the hands of the scammer who, I guess, just deleted it and moved on seeking the inevitable dupe among the thousands who had received the ridiculous request for a gift card for a distressed woman.

I looked up Stage 3 metastasized breast cancer and was disgusted that the fraudster was using such an illness to boost his dodgy earnings.

I then dug out a very old email from my old mate and sent a message asking if he had been scammed.

Of course he had, and he told me he was frantically dealing with the dozens of people on his address list who had received the scam email.

What evil scum these scammers are, made worse by their anonymity.

But all is not gloom. On that very day, another old mate who specialises in sending me internet jokes he thinks I might like banged off this one:

I had a phone conversation today with a very nice young chap from Pakistan. This is how it went:

‘‘Hello sir, how are you today?’’

‘‘I’m very well, thank you for asking. And how are you? And more to the point, who are you?’’

‘‘Sir, my name is Sanjit, and I’m calling you from Microsoft.’’

‘‘Microsoft, eh? Is that a city in Pakistan? How’s the weather there today?’’

‘‘No, sir — Microsoft, the computer company. I’m calling to tell you that we have found a problem with your computer and ...’’

‘‘Really? Well, that’s quite concerning ...’’