Very seldom am I shocked by the stupidity of people, but every now and then somebody comes along that is so appalingly stupid that you have to wonder if she’s ever even seen an episode of anything other than The Hills.
A friend of mine, Katie, recently took a trip to California with a friend of hers. While they were in San Francisco, they decided to eat lunch at this delightful little eatery on the corner. After a quick meal of sandwiches and unsweetened tea (what devilry is this?) they went about their touristy business. The rest of the trip passed without incident, and they returned to God’s Country, Atlanta, GA. (Although God may have just finished watching A Clockwork Orange when he designed our highway system.)
A week or two later, Katie was looking at her credit card statement and noticed a $2800 charge for a plane ticket from San Francisco to New York. “What the shit!” She exclaimed. “I didn’t fly from San Fran to New York!” She called up her credit card company to dispute the charges, but they needed more info. Enter Katie “The Ball Crusher.”
She got on the blower and called up Delta and pretended she was the person who took the flight. She asked for a receipt and in short order, she received an e-mail with the receipt for two plane tickets charged to her credit card.
Dumbass move #1. You can’t (easily) fly under an alias. Katie now had two names and a city she was recently in, where it seemed highly likely her credit card number was stolen. She then fired up the internet machine and after a brief search of Google, she had a couple of addresses.
Dumbass move #2. If you steal a credit card and fly under your own name, don’t fly out of the same city you live in. Armed with this knowledge, it was time to visit that bastion of all that is holy. Facebook.
Bingo. Katie now had names, addresses, and pictures of the perps. Best of all, she recognized one of the girls as the waitress in the corner eatery in San Fran. It was time to visit Johnny Law. After filing the police report and submitting it to the credit card company to get her money back, she thought her job was finished. She was wrong. As she told this story to me, an idea began to develop. A plan full of revenge and intrigue, if you will.
Imagine you stole a car from someone you didn’t know. When you got into the car you saw a bunch of mail and whatnot and you remembered the name. Now, how freaked out would you be if you started receiving mail from that name and address? Maybe just a post card or something? You’d be shaking in your boots, scared to sleep at night. This was my plan for these girls.
I told Katie she should add them as friends on Facebook. They already knew her name from her credit card, and we assumed that they had to Google her name to get a billing address for the plane tickets. They’d recognize her name. She added them, but as of this writing, she hadn’t heard back. They may stupid enough to add her, in which case, every picture gets tagged as “I paid for that.” Hopefully we’ll get to have a bit of fun with them before the law comes knockin’ on their door.
I considered posting their identities on here and we could all go gumpfishing, but I suppose there’s still a chance that they didn’t do it. In that case I’d hate to be on the downside of a libel lawsuit.
Edit: You know what? Screw it. Here you go, America. Do whatever you deem necessary. Monique Reyes and Shawnette Etheridge. See you in Hell, my friends…
