Opening the Money Gates

In past columns I have grumbled about all the stupid hoaxes and dire warnings that keep showing up in my e-mail box, usually in the form of well-meaning but totally misguided and irritating forwards from my friend Sharon, and, on occasion, from another friend, Nadia. You know, horror stories about the guy who blew up a gas station by using his cellphone, or the woman who became infected with cockroach eggs by licking envelopes, or warnings that heating food in plastic containers in the microwave can cause cancer. And, of course, there also were the endless scams, like the "official" notices that a long-lost relative of mine died in Zimbabwe and left me $28 million.



Therefore, I usually ignore any forwards. But one day I received an e-mail that got my attention because it came from someone I have worked with doing tournament reporting. It was headed, "Please Read! It was on Good Morning America Today Show." Ignoring the fact that those are two different shows, I opened it out of curiosity. The e-mail informed me of an unbelievable moneymaking opportunity. It seems that Microsoft was running some kind of beta test. They wanted people to forward the e-mail so that they could track its progress. They would pay $245 for each person you sent it to, along with $243 for each person the recipients in turn forwarded it to. It was just a marketing expense for Microsoft and a way for Bill Gates to share his fortune, the message explained.

I was a trifle suspicious because this e-mail sounded vaguely familiar to something I had gotten years ago. Then there was the math. If only a million people sent it on to 100 people, and those hundred passed it on to 100 more, and Microsoft paid out $240 or so for each hit, that would come to more than $2 trillion, which is almost what a tank of gas will cost in about two years.



However, the e-mail assured everyone that it had been written up in USA Today, and the woman who sent me the e-mail said she believed it because it was begun by an attorney who had actually seen checks sent out by Microsoft.



Anyway, I had nothing to lose, so I forwarded it to about 100 friends and associates. I got a few hostile responses from some of those I contacted, but who cared? After all, 100 times 100 times $240 would earn me $2.4 million for a few minutes work. That's even more than Card Player pays me!



Several weeks went by, and I couldn't understand why I had gotten no acknowledgment from Microsoft, much less any checks. Soon thereafter, I happened to be in Vegas, and stopped by The Mirage to play a little poker. Lo and behold, there was Bill Gates, in the $4-$8 game he sometimes plays there. I took a seat next to him and asked what he was up to and why I hadn't gotten my check.



"I'm a little behind in my payments," he apologized. "My head mathematician underestimated what the beta test would cost. He got some decimal points in the wrong place or something. It's really hard to get good help these days, you know."



"I don't understand," I said. "In that case, why are you playing poker instead of working on the problem from your office?"



"That's why I'm here," Gates explained patiently. "I'm playing poker, trying to raise the $2 trillion I'll need to pay everybody."



"So, how are you doing?"



"Well, I'm behind a few thousand. But I'm bound to get lucky soon. After all, I've only been playing for five days so far."



I thought he looked a bit unshaven. "You sound just like my friend Ann Broom," I told him. "You know, the woman I wrote about in 'Prisoner of the Internet,' the one who's been locked in her room for months playing poker online, trying to get even. It's all your fault, Bill. If you hadn't invented the Internet, this would have never happened to her."



"Al Gore invented the Internet," Gates corrected me. "And I wish you'd tell your friend Ann to quit calling me. Every time she's in one of her 10- and 20-cent games, and gets involved in a 'big' pot that's over $2, she seems to get disconnected, and then she calls me to complain and demands that I make up for her loss because my lousy software was to blame. Tell her to buy a better computer."



"She's dead broke, thanks to you. How about if I tell her to forward your beta testing e-mail? The $2.4 million would almost get her even."



A couple of players at the table heard what I said and their ears perked up. "Wow! A quarter-million just for forwarding some e-mail? See you later, boys," they said, picking up their chips and dashing off.



"Now look at what you've done!" Gates screamed. "Not only did you just cost me another $5 million, but now the game is short, too!"



Just then his cellphone rang. "What? The government has filed another $500 billion antitrust suit against us, and there's a new virus that's destroying all our software, and my wife, Melinda, wants to know where the hell I am? Quit bothering me with all these petty details. I'm busy now."



I could see I wasn't getting anywhere with him, and figured I'd better leave before he really got mad at me. As I started to stand up, I got a peek at his cards and noticed that he was capping the pot with J-8 suited. That's my favorite hand, and I felt a little reassured, since Gates obviously knew what he was doing at the poker table. So, maybe I'll get my check after all.



In the meantime, I'd like to alert all my fans that the beta test thing is just a big hoax, so please don't forward anything – or at least not until I get paid, because things are starting to get out of hand. I just found out that after Barry Shulman read this column, he forwarded the Microsoft test to every name on his Card Player subscriber list.