Am I German?

Am I German? I’m led to believe I am

An email in my inbox reads ‘Congratulations Darren! Your Great-Grandfather Jürgen Arndt Low has died and left you his entire fortune. Please call immediately to claim your inheritance!’ Oh okay then.

It has always been something that has fascinated me - the mystery of the Junk Email that seems to find its way so effortlessly into my inbox, and is so persistent in doing so. Usually things this trivial or ridiculous have never grabbed my attention. The newspaper supplements that include a free scratch card, 100% guaranteed to win - they have never done anything for me. I think I have enough Parker Pens and cheap tacky alarm clocks to last me a lifetime. If I thought for a second there was a chance of winning that dream holiday to Mauritius, or the elegant 4-door saloon with the beautiful blonde draped all over, then maybe I would reconsider.

The emails however, I find it so perplexing how they always seem to be so personal and clued in to my life. ‘Feeling lonely Darren? Single? Well find out what girls live close to you in Nottingham’. Single is a very strong word and how do they know where I live? ‘Still having money problems? Want to earn £300-a-day at home? ‘Nail on the head’ springs to mind but can’t be legal. The best one yet was ‘Darren, fancy winning a lifetime supply of Viagra?’ Oh great, in a short amount of time I have become a Nottingham based singleton with terminal impotency and a severe amount of debt. Well if they are my problems, it shouldn’t really be anybody else’s business.

I have a strict routine in the morning. Apart from the usual duties, I will always check my email(s). This is in case overnight I have became incredibly popular, and have a string of beautiful women just waiting to hear back from me. In reality, what I’m actually doing is checking what bull**** spam I’ve received that day. For the unknowing, Spam mail is just worthless junk that somehow successfully invades my personal life. This day was no different - more offers of Viagra and debt solutions to tie me over. Unexpectedly, whilst I was filtering out the Junk from the useful, I came across one email that seemed to stand out from the rest. It read ‘Congratulations Darren! Your Great-Grandfather Jürgen Arndt Low has died and left you his entire fortune. Please call immediately to claim your inheritance!’

My initial reaction came in three separate stages: - (1) Who is this extremely wealthy, German-sounding Great-Grandfather of mine? And does that mean that I in turn am actually part German? (2) This email must be complete poppycock because I don’t believe my parents have failed to mention this man to me in all this time. (3) How rich are we talking?

Despite the clever selection of wording that had been used in the message, in which both my Christian name and surname had been slyly yet cunningly included to try and lure me - and the fact that they congratulated me on the death of a relative - there is a good reason why they call it Spam. It is probably because afterwards, you are left with a bitter and unpleasant taste in your mouth, plus a need to know who the mystery creator of such a processed and phony product actually is. I don’t think I’ll ever find those answers; but this is one man that has no need for what they are trying to sell me. Well, maybe one of the things.