scammers inc.

CINDERELLA WILLIAMS

How can two sex sites look so eerily similar? My trolling for subsequent sex sites was uncanny. The following site I stumbled upon was a carbon copy of the first. Many models had either left the previous site to join the new one or joined both. Each website was comparable to the treatment of their clients. Chat for fifteen minutes and cut off, never to see them again. Of course, the model answered none of my questions and real names? Strictly taboo.

The stars were the same, gold and green, and positioned in the same way on each profile. However, I did notice there were very few green stars, something that disappointed me.

I should have stopped there, left well alone, moved away from sex sites, and never looked back. However, my thirst for knowledge required feeding. An increase in my understanding superseded any thought of stopping and leaving. Committed to my task, I trolled on finding a plethora of similar sites.

MY BANK

What I didn't bargain for was a bursting spam folder. Models I had met online, especially those owning a green star, filled the folder with promises of perverted sex, or a view of them in erotic clothing, or no clothing at all. At least I wasn't redirected to another sex site, something that frequented the yellow stared models. The problem with that was my bank account. Every month I would find some strange name withdrawing money.

At first, I found it almost impossible to rid myself of these strange withdrawals. Non-sequential numbers identified most accounts. Working with my bank fraud department, we quickly discovered that websites from an array of different counties had access to my account. In tandem with my bank, I decided to find out just who these websites were. It wasn't difficult. I punched in the details from my bank into google search.

To my surprise, google automatically directed me to a website that looked dedicated to purging my bank account of these fraudulent withdrawals. Not only did they help in identifying the company and their location, but they also instructed me to get a new credit card.

From that point on, I felt safe. My bank put a hold on my account several times when these bogus companies attempted to withdraw money. And yet, to cancel a subscription was difficult, but not impossible. Nevertheless, it took a while to discover how. No sooner had I entered the cancelation site than was I greeted with standard computer text.

"Good day, how may I help you?"

"I want to cancel my subscription, please."

"Certainly. What is your subscription number, please?"

a few minutes, I considered her request before writing back. "I don't know, I'm afraid. I deleted my original welcome email."

"No problems, just give me your name, last six numbers on your credit card, and password to the site."

So far, it was easy. I gave the operator the relevant information. Within a minute, she was back with, "I have found you. We can cancel your subscription. But as you are a loyal customer (I had been on the site for two days), we are offering a fifty percent discount for three months."

And that was the catch. All perfectly legal and above board, even if the small print was ridiculously tiny.

I was not to be caught up again in the sordid world of sex. I had enough information to start my manuscript. Besides, my notebook was packed, and my printer had already been busy spewing out all the relevant information. However, like the last kick of the cat, I went online one more time to satisfy myself that I had all the information pertinent to at least start writing. Suddenly the site sparked to life.

"Hi, I'm Cindy. Do you want to chat?"

It was a dumb question, but it broke the ice.

"Of course, I'll chat with you. That's why I'm here." I answered bluntly

Before I could say another word, Cindy asked, "you have hangouts? Let's go there and chat."

That's what we did. When we both arrived at the app, the first order of business was a couple of semi-nudes of Cindy. But, looking at her stern concrete-like face, it was hard to become attracted to her, sexually or otherwise. I had to remind myself why I was there. It didn't take much to swing my thoughts back to reality.

EUROS

Meeting perhaps once a week, we bantered small talk. However, things began to change when Cindy emailed me a letter. It was arduously long and yet reveling. After breaking through the, I love you, and the ridiculous addition, forever, I came to the Crucks of the letter.

"I need six hundred Euros." She said, out of the blue. Cindy's request was buried deep in her message. Her request became my ticket to a most bizarre, worldwide attempt at scamming me. However, her appeal triggered many questions; some answers were honest, others dubious at best.

Where are you?" I asked, a simple ice breaker ripping into the morass of her life.

"I'm in Bucharest, Romania," she answered. Presumably, under the pressure of the moment, she let her near-perfect English slip. Pidgin English broke through mercilessly. (for clarity, I have omitted her style of grammar (P.B. author))

"I need the money to pay for my hotel bill. Please can you help me?"

I was firm in my commitment never to pay money to anyone online. Besides, I barely knew the woman.

"No, Cindy," I said, "I don't have that sort of money, besides I don't know anything about you. You could be doing this to a hundred guys and making a fortune." Like a tormented bull in the ring, It became a night of pleading and rejecting, pushing and aggressively holding fast on to my commitment. It was a struggle, but eventually, our chat came to an end. I thought I had heard the last of Cindy and her request for money.

However, two weeks later, Cindy popped up once again. And again, she asked for money. I put my foot down, telling her I would not give her a single penny. It didn't work. It was a constant theme, please, please—my answer, as always, a definitive no. However, I became interested in her. Why was she in Romania, one of the few remaining communist countries? Considering her poor English grammar, I had placed her in a country like the Philippines or one of the ex-African colonies of Great Britain.

"Where are you from?" I asked. Her answer shocked me.

"I come from the United States of America."

I had trouble believing her, for I likened her writing skills to that of fourth grade. It was readable, but only just.

"That's a very big country Cindy, I said partly in jest. Can you narrow it down just a little?"

"I have a house in California and one in Florida," she said casually, leaving me to wonder why she needed my money.

"What do you do for a living?" I asked, trying to stretch out our conversation. I wanted to know considerably more about Cindy than I already did, which was sketchy at best.

"I sell precious and semi-precious stones." She said. And as if she could read my mind, she quickly added, "I'm a commissioned contractor salesman for Rio Tinto Mines."

Cindy went on to explain that her parents owned a contract precious and semi-precious stones wholesale business. I noted she talked about her parents in the past tense. Cindy told me her parents busied themselves selling uncut stones to wholesalers. It was a lucrative business, she told me. Not only did they own two homes in America, but they drove luxurious vehicles, flew business class, and stayed in five-star hotels. It also allowed them to send Cindy, their only child, to a private school. Having Cindy in that type of school freed them to travel and market more products.

As for Cindy's early days? After formal high school concluded and with stellar marks, Cindy enrolled in the University of California and college of accounting. Cindy told me she was very successful as an accountant and was always busy.

"So what brought you into the gems business," I asked, intrigued by her story.

"My parents were involved in a vehicle accident," she implied. "They didn't survive" If there was any sorrow in her text, I didn't see it. Her language was straight, to the point, and cold. Not once did she express love for her mother and father. I tried to find out where the accident occurred. Each time I broached the subject, she would shy away. I quickly discovered that avenue of investigation was severed and for good.

"Can you lend me six-hundred euros, please? I promise to pay you back as soon as I reach the States?"

"Cindy," I started, ready to give my stock answer, that of being broke. Instead, I entered into a rant attacking her finances and wondering just how much money she had at home. Having two homes and leaving a burgeoning business, I had to assume she had plenty of money. Therefore, I asked if she had any at home in her bank. She confessed she did, a substantial amount by all accounts. However, she couldn't access any of her money because it was in U.S. dollars.

She went on to explain, "Banks in Bucharest would not accept the transfer of U.S. dollars." I suggested she visit an ATM and withdraw money. Again, she said she could not retrieve her American cash as she was in a communist country.

I checked the Romanian bank policy and their policies governing foreign currency. They had no issues buying American dollars. Therefore, Cindy could access her American account without any difficulties.

Convinced I was involved with a confidence trickster, I took steps to protect myself and my banking. I changed my bank account, debit cards, credit cards, and anything else that could cause me financial pain.

Our chat continued unabated for six more weeks. However, it was exhausting trying to find excuses not to send Cindy money. But I gritted my teeth and hung in there, wondering in what direction this charade would take me.

It didn't take long before I tired of Cindy's constant begging. It was time I moved on, I thought. I speculated nothing was going to happen with Cindy. I was chasing a dead end. I had nowhere to go but to bailout and seek my answers on another website with other models.

Then I received an email that rippled with excitement and changed my outlook on life.

"I don't need your money," Cindy yelled out. "I'm off to Malaysia to collect my commission from Rio Tinto Mines. They owe me five million U.S. dollars commission on previous sales. I'm so excited."

NEXT: Chapter 3 Cindy in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.