Sitting at home one lazy afternoon, you get a phone call from Ms. Davis, who identifies herself as a junior associate for a for a large law firm. Assuring you that you are not being sued, she asks you to come in to her office later that week. Checking her bona fides, you are satisifed that Ms. Davis is what she says she is, and you agree to the appointment.
A few days later, you go to see Ms. Davis’s office. She leads you not to her own office but to that of her boss, Ms. Jones, a name partner in the law firm, which happens to be a quite prestigous one in your city. Ms. Jones tells you that the firm represents a certain extremely wealthy indiividual who wishes to remain anonymous. For reasons Ms. Jones is not at liberty to disclose, her client wishes to give you $1,000,000 dollars and has set up an account through the firm for that purpose. If you choose, Ms. Jones will cut you a check for that amount right now, or wire it into your account; if you prefer, she can set up a trust as you direct, as well as helping you with taxes and so forth. You needn’t decide right this instant; if you wish to retain counsel of your own to talk to her, she is free any time this week. As Ms. Jones says this last, she glances at her Ms. Davis and scowls; the latter quickly apologizes for not suggesting that bring your own attorney for the intiial meeting.
Naturally curious, you ask Ms. Jones who your prospective benefactor is. But she refuses to say, or to explain why the person is giving you the money. You offer some suggestions. Maybe you once helped the person out in some way and they wish to repay you; maybe the person once harmed you and wishes to atone; maybe the person is simply impressed with your work as a writer, artist, or whatever the hell it is you do. But no matter how you ask, Ms. Jones won’t tell you who is giving you this money, or why. All she’ll say is that if you have a week to decide whether and how to take the windfall, and if you decline, it will be given to a charity you happen to despise.
I could give a shit about its provenance. I’ll show up later this week with my lawyer and my accountant and we’ll do this thing. I’m assuming this is tax-free?
This sounds like a version of the Nigerian scam! I think I’d take the check and maybe see if my bank can look into it for me? No way are those people getting my account info.
I don’t understand why you think it would be tax-free. If nothing else, the suggestion of a trust militates against that.
While I share your hesitance at giving out your account info, I think simply taking the check is dicey. Were I inclined to take this money, I’d be opening up an account at a bank at which I have no other accounts and directing that the wire transfer go there.
But first a lawyer. Shakespeare was wronger than wrong.
There’s too many people who I’ve felt wronged me and others who may have felt I’ve wronged them. I wouldn’t want the money from them. In this one instance, I’m too nosey (which is usually against my nature). I’m too smart to know some thing that’s too good to be true isn’t. Besides, who ever the donor is, I don’t want someone ever having reason to collect a favor from me. No dice.
Were I ever to win an obscene amount of money, this is exactly the way I would distribute it amongst my friends, family and acquaintances, as well as people who barely know me but who made a good impression on me.
So yeah, I’d take the money. Maybe I smiled at a particularly down patron as I waited on her some rainy, miserable afternoon. Who knows?
First: retain an attorney. Second: follow attorney’s advice, unless that advice involves giving more than, say, $10,000 to the attorney (figure pulled from butt). Third, if the attorney advises persuasively not to accept the money, explore option of civil action against Jones Jones Jones Davis & Jones for fraud, so I can at least recover attorney’s fees.
Lawyer up. And even if it’s someone I hate who gave me money for a weird reason, it’s better that I get it - and there’s legal proof that I had no way of knowing who was behind it - than some charity I loathe.
In this variation of the “Millionaire” show updated, I am curious, but do not need to know anything except two things. The money has to be real, not fake, which can be determined by the check clearing all parties, not just the initial bank. Secondly, I’d like some letter of transmittal if possible, but the check itself will do with my notation “anonymous gift” written in the reference area. I could add to my comfort zone by having my attorney record the transaction some way in case some money laundering scheme was in play.
I must add that I have no personal intended use for such money myself. I would enjoy the ability to help certain others within my “circle of benevolence” (An O.J. Simpson term). Money can destroy lives. I’m at a point where I can’t be destroyed by it, yet do not wish to ruin the lives of others by bestowing unearned wealth.
I’d be grateful; it would solve a big tuition issue re: my boys. Its true that I’d never know who to thank, but if I did, mybe it might change things in a way that person didn’t want changed, so I’d respect that.
But on the other hand, I’d always worry that, since I really Didn’t know who it was, that I’d open my big fat mouth and insert foot someday on some subject to someone who certainly would never deserve it (there are days when I Swear my tongue has “Sketchers” imprinted on it).
I’d definately have to curb my tongue. But maybe thats a win-win for everone involved.
I guess the issue for me would be the possibility that the reason it’s anonymous could be that I would refuse it if I knew more.
Legally Im pretty sure I’d need to do a fair bit of checking about it’s source if I didnt want to risk having to pay it back at some point, if not worse.
I answered that I’d lawyer up, but honestly, I can’t afford a lawyer. I’d pray that it isn’t a trick of some kind and agree to the trust in my name.
I’d like to think that once I’ve got the million bucks I’d hire a lawyer to give everything a quick once-over, but honestly, I’d grow complacent with my million. I’d just say “fuck it” and enjoy the money.
I think that anyone who knows me well enough to give me money knows that I don’t really want it, so this money is from a stranger. And, frankly, that creeps me out.
Just reading the title, I thought, “Lawyer, lawyer, lawyer.”
Reading your description, I thought, “No, I’m not asking a bunch of questions about who the benefactor is. I’m just chanting ‘Lawyer, lawyer, lawyer.’”
I would have been like that anyway, but a book I read makes me even more paranoid about things like this. It was a Perry Mason novel where a young woman agreed to sign a strange contract. It seemed innocent so she signed without getting a lawyer. The catch was that the contract gave the other party a share of any money she came into, and the other party knew she was in line to inherit money.
So in your scenario, I wouldn’t care who it was. Just if there was anything they could legally get from me if I agreed.
I’m a lawyer, and I chose “wire me the money.” Everyone saying they’d get a lawyer–why? What do you expect this lawyer to tell you that you don’t already know? Do you think it may be illegal somehow to accept a gratuitous gift of money from an anonymous person?
