There was a hilarious story on the radio this morning from some, and I choose my words carefully here, monumental arsehead of a woman, who was highlighting her recent plight in an attempt to prevent others from falling into the same trap and suffering the same heartbreak and ridicule as she had.
But what had befallen her? Had her feet fallen off due to overuse of tanning beds? Had someone raped her handbag? Surely she hadn't purchased a Lady Gaga single?
No, it was much more amusing than that. Put simply, some bloke had used an online dating service to con her out of some money by claiming his daughter was ill and needed an operation.
A couple of minor points:
- They had only known each other a couple of weeks at the time.
- They hadn't actually met.
- He managed to wangle £60k out of her.
- She's a fucking Idiot.
To be fair, she will now face all manner of abuse, ridicule and being picked on for coming out and admitting to her slight error of judgment. Her angle was that there was nothing any of the listeners could call her which she hadn't already called herself. Now there's a gauntlet I wouldn't mind picking up, but she probably had a point. However, can you trust someone to be that annoyed with themselves if they allow such a level of hoodwinking to take place? I mean, it's not as if they'd been together for a couple of years, got engaged, then he made up some tall tale about needing £1500 to fix his bike. They'd literally never met, yet he managed to manipulate her into parting with sixty large without seemingly breaking sweat.
It's highly feasible that being on a dating website showed her to be something of a desperate character, and was therefore ripe for the picking. I'm not for a minute suggesting that Internet dating means you're desperate and/or a lardarse (in fact, I know 2 married couples of my age who met that way), but she did sound as soft as shite and had probably been hand-picked by an established confidence trickster. Even so, wouldn't you have thought she might say "Er, hold on a minute, squire. Bearing in mind we're yet to meet, and your photo looks like you're modelling ill-fitting shorts in a Littlewoods catalogue, provide me with sufficient documentation and/or visitation rights to your so-called ill daughter and we'll talk", surely? If he was genuine, I doubt he would have taken offence at being questioned when his daughter's health was at stake, in which case you draw up a contract, get both parties to sign it and give little Chastity the iron lung she so desperately needs.
Instead she went "60 grand? Yeah, go on then" which quite frankly, is the work or an epic tool. "Got what she deserved" doesn't seem adequate enough somehow.
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