Raj's Ranting and Raving

Check fraud and other bits of stupidity.

2007-06-04T00:48:05Z

You know, it's truly amazing how stupid some people can be. People who are alleged (or at least present themselves) to be intelligent and well educated, yet somehow ALWAYS seem to miss the boat are more often a source of amusement to me than anything else.

Unless it has a direct impact on my personal safety. Then I stop being amused and start taking action.

Now I'm not so self-absorbed or narcissistic to believe that anyone who might stumble upon this will give even so much as a partial shit about what I'm about to spew. But, being a resident of the United States, and being well and truly in possession of rights as posited by the First and Second Amendments to the United States Constitution, spew I shall. If feelings get hurt in the process, I say "See Figure One." Had the person in question (and I will name names) used even the least bit of common sense, I wouldn't be posting this now. Had this person used the business sense of a politically moderate garden slug, let alone someone who lays claim to a Masters degree in business, I wouldn't have reason to kvetch. Alas, this is not to be, in either event, and thus here I am, posting a nice rambling spew-a-log, hopefully for the amusement of (most of) the readership.

It all started in October-ish of 2006. By this point I've been completely free and clear of any ex-wife crap for over eight months. I'm on my way out the door to head to work when I notice a Fedex envelope on my doorstep. As I'm expecting something from work, I assume that this is it. I toss it inside and head to another productive day at ${DAYJOB}. Work goes as work does. No strangeness here, nothing to see, move along, etc. Upon returning home, I open this nice little Fedex envelope and notice not the paperwork I was expecting, but a check made out to Carol Lee. Hrm, thinks I, and glance at the shipping label on the front of the envelope. Sure as my name isn't President Bush that it's made out to Carol Lee, a person that ceased to exist several months prior. Since she recently inherited a decent chunk of money from her deceased mother (and she obviously no longer needed my money), I assumed that this was simply a disbursement that went awry. Well, this check for $4500 didn't have my name on it (thank god), so I dropped my ex an email letting her know that I had it. The story that unfolded in my email box left me completely and totally gobsmacked. Seems that this WASN'T part of a legitimate funds transfer. Evidently Carol had been in correspondence with someone who wanted to send her a check to cash and forward the bulk of the money back to them.

Why this didn't set off alarm bells in the mind of a person with a Master's Degree in Business is a mystery that remains unsolved to me to this day.

A precis for those who've been confused thus far:

My Ex Wife establishes contact with an organization that is attempting to launder money by sending money orders across state lines, utilizing my address information as hers. When I query her about this state of affairs, does she apologize for placing me in a compromised security situation? Does she apologize for drawing me into an obviously fraudulent affair with an unknown criminal element? No, that would actually be the responsible thing to do, and since she's got a Master's degree, as well as working toward a Ph.D in psychology (or some such nonsense), she's obviously above it.

No, she accuses me of violating federal law for opening mail that was addressed to her (in spite of the fact that a) it was made out to "Carol Lee" and delivered to *MY* address, and b) it was delivered by Fedex, and not the USPS, thus rendering her argument moot), and then demands that I forward the case number provided by the Roswell Police Department "As I'm looking after my own best interests."

A hearty fuck you if I've ever seen or heard one.

Now does anyone care to wager what would have happened had the scenario been reversed? Had *I* actually been the one stupid enough to engage in interstate fraud, using her address as mine? I'm quite sure that I'd have heard from her attorney within record time, likely having to pay to have the locks on her doors and automobile changed, etc. etc. et-fucking-cetera.

So I contact the Roswell police department, something I'd requested that my Ex do by noon the following Tuesday. I should have known that there was no way in hell she'd do anything of the sort as it would require effort on her part. After I'd placed the call (at 12:00 on Tuesday), a nice officer stopped by and I gave him my side of the story. He looked at me, obviously registering the fact that I, with lack of boobs, was not in fact Carol, and took custody of the check. He contacted a supervisor, who stopped by within 15 minutes of placing the call. He looked things over, and discussed matters unknown with his cohort. After a brief discussion, they both make their way up to my front door.

Now the kicker to this little bit of drama, something that I've pretty much kept to myself since I have no desire to have any contact with either the 200 lbs of unwanted fat OR her kids, is that this money order was as fake as a politician's promise. I didn't bother to look at it that closely, as I had no intention of sullying my good name by attempting to cash it. But the officers did, and in their brief investigation noted a few things about this check, most notably the lack of bank identifier, the fact that the ink ran when a raindrop splatted on it, etc.

It's at this point that I must confess a profound yet fleeting regret for NOT having taken valuable time out of my day to forward it off to her. The fleeting vision of her being carted off from Manuel's Check Cashing and Laundromat would have had me walking with a limp and smiling for days. The supervisor mentioned in passing that had I passed it on and she had actually attempted to cash it, I would likely have been in duck soup as an accomplice to interstate fraud. They'd have one hell of a time proving it, but the chances were >0. I assured him that I wasn't seriously considering it, in spite of everything, since it would have required some sort of contact with my ex wife.

The supervisor noted that they'd been running into several of these lately, and it was a fairly cheap operation. The print quality was about what one would expect out of a low quality home laser printer. The FBI would be notified, and I would be receiving information on the case number eventually (which I did). On their way out, they assured me that my part of this entire bit of happy bullshit had come to an end when I'd surrendered the check to them.

Next time: The Car, laziness, and why my Ex should take out lots of malpractice insurance.

What a long, strange trip it's been...

2005-09-18T16:42:39Z

The date: Sept. 13, 1992. The place, Fremont, Ca. The time: just after 2 am.

That was the moment that changed my life forever, for good or for ill. I sat reading some bit of random stupidity on that herd of elephants known as Usenet (amusing to watch, amazing in the volume of shit that could be generated). I knew something had to change in order for me to continue functioning as a member of society.

Fast forward 13 years, one pilot's license (private single engine and multi engine, thank you), two marriages (the second going strong (but could be stronger)), and a whole bunch of random events that most people call life have happened. I now live in a modest home north of Atlanta with my Wife of just shy of five years and three kids that most people could envy (they still do their kid shit, but then, kids do that sort of thing anyway, regardless).

I have a mortgage, two car payments, a flock of birds, and all the other concommitant worries that come with middle age.

Would I change anything?

Nah. Nothing worth worrying about. Besides, a wise man once told me to focus on the now. One can't spend life with one foot in the past, one in the future, and stand pissing on the present.

I wish I could fly again, though. Alas, those days are over.

13 years, one day at a time. Whoda thunk it?

Fnargh.

2004-01-02T19:50:23Z

It's been a while since I've posted. My life lately has been one long exercize in massive amounts of motion and effort signifying absolutely nothing. The job situation hasn't changed one iota. For those that don't know, I'm unemployed. I won't go on about that, since I don't want to come off sounding like some petulant whiner trying to get attention. However, if you happen to know someone in the Greater Atlanta area that's hiring a Unix Sysadmin, I'm available immediately. Tell me and I'll shoot resume's in all different directions.

Anyway, enough of that malcontented whining.

Personally, I'm glad the holidays are over. The tree is down, and life is settling back into what little semblence of normalcy passes for normal around these parts. It never ceases to amaze me just how much in the way of gyrations people will go through in the name of The Holidays(TM).

I'm just fortunate that I managed to miss getting bombarded by cheezy christmas music. I don't believe that there's a genre, with the possible exception of Country, that makes me as nauseous as Christmas music. Always has.

I think I'm skipping Christmas entirely next year.

Merciful Medication and Perpetual Fogs

2003-11-17T17:13:45Z

Whee. Just had my Monthly Pain Management Doctor's appt(TM). Since I'm currently a member of that large group known as Laid Off Tech Workers(TM)(R), my insurance has lapsed.

And I take, normally, somewhere in the neighborhood of $1000 in medication/month.

Well, I told The Good Doctor about my financial position, making firm note that there's no way in HELL I could afford Brand X medication (at $495/month) or even fewer of Brand X X-Tra Strength ($529.99/month). He sez "Oh, here. We'll put you on these. They'll do about the same thing, and probably be the cheapest thing you'll have to buy. And they're about 1.5 times stronger."

He was right. To the tune of $45.99/month. Oh, and they seem to be working just fine, too. I seem to be getting the pain relief without (or with a considerably lower level of) the continual buzzzzzz that Brand-X brings.

The only drawback, however, is that they tend to be rather addicting. But that's OK, so was Brand X (and by extension Brand X X-tra Strength).

For those that know me, and those that care, ask me offline if you're curious as to what I'm talking about brand name wise.

I just have to get over the stigma of the cheaper drugs.

Whee. Just ... Whee.

Ah, the joys of the internet

2003-11-14T23:04:35Z

Well, here I am, my first entry in what likely will prove to be quite a few rants. A good deal of this will be fiction (who can hurl a moose 3000 miles and have pinpoint accuracy? Well, I can, but that's another story, to be told repeatedly).

Something has seriously yakked my cheese of late, however. I have a friend, who happens to be married to a very sweet lady (I have friends! Yes!). Anyway, said friend just got royally shafted by a tenured professor (they're both grad students at a college somewhere just north of hell). Needless to say, she was hurt very much by the thoughlessness of this nattering slobberdonkey, and her ability to graduate on time was seriously jeopardized. To cheer her up, I hurled one of my trademarked moose at said professor. At least I was able to brighten her day a bit. Maybe, if I feel like it, I might repost it here, as a warning to other two-bit halfwits (does that make them a full bit?) that annoying the easily annoyed and dreadfully under medicated is an idea that they may wish to reconsider.

Shame I live ~1500-2000 miles away, lest they find a pack of rabid ocelots humping their legs and their windows soaped (from the same source?).