I Lost My Faith In Men

I find myself at a crossroads today, with a nagging feeling that I have been here before. This is not my first time out of a job, and I recall accepting positions and trying things that don’t fit me, just for something to do, out of desperation, or for the novelty of it. Looking at the hot job offers that come to my mailbox every day, that advertise insurance, or sales positions from the comfort of your own home I recall falling for their line.

I was desperate and depressed after my second unsuccessful career change and I have answered an add for a Talent Scout thinking it has something to do with Arts Management, which was my college major. People from all walks of life were welcomed into a training program with no filtering system, and we soon discovered that realistic people quit. Our job was to come up to random strangers on the street and sell them an idea of being a model. For a time I deceived even myself into thinking that I am a salesman of dreams. We all learned the stats- the measurements of male and female models, the possible jobs they may have with particular features and so on. At first it was fun to man the casting calls and to take people’s photos, and giving out business cards in the mall. Then I learned how it all works!

We were paid five bucks for every person that came to the presentation, and twenty for everyone who signed up for the services. The trouble is services casted $700 and most models – teens and young adults didn’t have that kind of money. So, the first problem we all faced was that Charleston SC, is not New York, NY. In two weeks the possible places for scouting were all covered by the legions of trainees that this new branch employed. And then I discovered the problem number two. Imputing the clients into the database of models, that was supposed to lunch their career I was struck by the shear number of suckers. I saw that even here there was no filtering system. The database was supposedly open for casting directors looking for extras, modeling agencies looking for clients to represent, and marketers looking for best person to sell their product. The line was that they all played for the exclusivity of the service. However, after stumbling upon a few genuine working models, and hearing about how their agents work, or about how they were ripped off by a similar scammers I saw that the service is a myth. One girl in a million actually gets picked, and legions of mothers who love their kids pay for an unreachable dream.

Today, when people ask me if I saw the last episode of “American Idol” I answer that as a musician I find it demeaning, that I never saw a single episode, and that I hope I never lie to anyone about their talent or lack thereof to anyone. What I don’t tell people that that experience taught me that, I now see crooks and scammers almost everywhere, and I lost my faith in men.

Eventually, after that experience I found work in the business world. As an administrator in a small business I shopped around for health insurance for myself and for my employer. Imagine my surprise, when I found a few similar rules that applied to insurance salesmen with the same ease they did in the “dream selling” industry. The insurance salesmen were attractive, easygoing people who can talk a mile a minute. They flashed colorful brochures, and applied subliminal pressure. When I compared the packages of services, after the salesman is gone, I discovered that the premiums and the co pays were almost equal to the price of the procedure without any insurance. Not only that, I found out that I am uninsurable because of my preexisting condition. I have called the salesmen back, just to see what happens, and I watched him sweat. He called his superiors, explaining that even though I have Cerebral Palsy in my record I am in fact walking, talking, working individual with no visible symptoms. At the end the discounted sweet deal presented on paper ended up to be totally not worth my while, and the salesmen left without a commission.


I felt sorry for the guy, thinking about how long it would take for him to quit, yet for some reason I went to an interview with his company when I was looking for work again. Part of me wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, since my medical history is unique, and I wanted to regain my faith in men.

At the interview I saw a room similar to the one the “dream sellers” used for their presentations, and it contained nine other suckers. The PowerPoint presentation on the company was vague and confusing enough to sell the idea. But I saw that the job required either to drive around town to small businesses, competing with other agents, or calling leads that the company recycles. That was another lesson I leaned with the “dream sellers” – some people are approached by three or four trainees, till the leads get violent with you on the phone. The base and commission structure was also similar to the one I describe before.

In the one on one interview with the branch owner I called her bluff, recalled my personal experience with the services of her company. She turned crimson red, said that she will use my case as a teaching example for her trainees, and told me that if the job doesn’t suite me I can leave.

Today I notice these companies from their adds, sometimes without reading the entire thing. Home insurance, flood insurance, health insurance, life insurance, communication services, shares and annuities, club memberships, stocks and bonds. So many American inventions sell things that don’t represent a product or a service. Or at best they sell a service or a product at such a mark up that you can send a kid to college on the difference. And every time I see an ad like that on hot jobs, or in my physical mail box I see crooks and scammers almost everywhere, and I loose my faith in men.

Knowing all that, you would think that I wont’ buy in another scam, but I am ashamed to admit I did. When life as you know crumbles around you, you are pruned to look for escape and to buy into an impossible dream. I was in the middle of a divorce, my physical appearance was a it’s most hideous, my self-esteem was at it’s lowest, and I was out of a job. I have received a call from a “salesmen” telling me that I won two million dollars. All I had to do to claim my reward was pay taxes on my winnings. In a stressful situation, or when you are emotionally spent your defenses go down. After two days of calls from 1-888 numbers I have sent a money order of $5,000 to an account, which I was later informed by the police, was an untreatable Swiss Bank. Naturally my reward never came, and the 1-888 restricted numbers went dead as soon as I sent the money. The investigator of white collar crimes, and identity fraud later told me, that the phone numbers were pre-paid cell phones originating in Canada, and that there is no way to get my money back.

Upon this shameful experience I have changed my bank accounts, closed all credit cards, and compiled this debt of shame on top of the one I had as a dowry from my ex. And once again I saw crooks and scammers almost everywhere, and I lost my faith in men.

Time goes on, and I have bounced back to life. My readers know of my quest to find balance in my life, and of my desire to develop my creative gifts. My return to the dating world was not as easy and fast as that to productivity and this is why. Even though my ex husband was introduced to me in a chat room, I did write it off as a coincidence, and returned to the internet. I have created personal profiles on a few sites and eventually started talking.

First thing that struck me was the sheer number of profiles on personal sites. I have heard the Beatles’ Eleanor Rigby while reading many of them. The sad part is that among those that are looking for someone to share their life with there are crooks and scammers of extraordinary skill, preying on “all the lonely people.”
The man behind the profile that taught me wrote that he is an engineer, building a school in Nigeria; he posted an attractive picture, and talked of a family members al over Europe; he showered me with compliments, and come on lines and so on. When he decided that I am softened up enough he went for the kill. “Nigeria is uncivilized, it has no banking system, I am short on cash, but I have plenty of money in Europe. Could you help me out and cash a money order in your bank, if I leave you $500 for yourself?” In the beginning the guy introduced himself as Bob, but the money was supposed to be sent to Baqer-Abdul-Aziz or something along those lines.

Meanwhile another instant messenger window pops up from nowhere, and the owner of it writes, that he is a CIA operative trying to catch Nigerian scammers, who convince American women to cash counterfeit money orders. Knowing what I already did about scammers, I decided to play along. I agreed to “Bob’s” terms, and let the agent monitor my conversations. When the money orders came in the mail, I took them to the post office. I asked the clerk to tell me if they are real or not, and was astounded to compare the difference between the genuine article and the ones I brought.

With all of my previous experience, It probably took another week of compliments for me to let my guard down. If it wasn’t for the agent; who eventually wanted to much of undercover work from me for my taste, and was blocked together with the scammer; I may have cashed those fake notes at a bank, only to end up with a loss of untraceable funds. But, I told the guy his money orders were fake and blocked him. Even though the warning about Nigerian scammers was issued on news channels, I have spotted three of them a few months later, but this time I called their bluff much earlier. They all speak English with a similar accent and make uniquely African grammatical errors. They pick specific professions as a front. They even use the same come on lines and compliments. And most importantly they pick women that didn’t have much luck with men. That last detail still makes me wonder what is written on my forehead. And it also explains why I see crooks and scammers almost everywhere, and I lost my faith in men.

The sad part about this is, that ten years ago I was famous for my intuition, my insight into people’s souls and my ability to get them to open up to me. Today I doubt everything. I leaned to suspect everyone and rely only on myself. The draw back of this new skill is, however that I am becoming mean. Since I have no faith in men, I have lost my diplomatic skills with them and I have managed to hurt a few unintentionally. For some people this may be normal, but for someone who writes fairy-tales, it is detrimental to stop believing in their possibility enough to turn into an evil witch.

I am a student of human nature, I like getting people to talk to me, yet I seem to have a wall around me now. Recently I have stumbled on another crook, and a wall has helped me avoid a bad situation. Before this recent incident, however, I wasn’t even aware that I see crooks and scammers almost everywhere, and I lost my faith in men. I didn’t see that I don’t’ give to charity, because I am convinced that those that needed most will never get it. After working for the government I also know that middle man takes most of what you donate. I wasn’t aware how head it is for me now to suspend my disbelief. I didn’t know how often I show my lack of faith in men. And I didn’t know that I am once again out of balance. I am out of balance, for there has to be a line, between buying into scams, and snapping at random strangers, and I seem to have lost it.

This is an SOS dear reader. I am opened for surjection’s from those who can help me not to see scammers and crooks everywhere and to find my faith in men. I am still talking to people, still working as heard as I can at remembering myself as a child. I am still optimistic about the way out of this, but would like to know, if someone else is in the same boat.

Comments