When I worked for a parking company in Chicago, one of the guys who worked in the garage was Nigerian. He was one of the sweetest guys I have ever known. He liked me a lot (I worked in the main office, and he felt I somehow helped him to get hired) When he discovered I was pregnant, he wrote to his family back in Nigeria and asked them to send him a baby outfit. After I had Blake, he gave the outfit to me as a gift. It was bright green and gold, with the hat that looks kind of like an upside-down pizza pan. Oh, I loved that outfit and dressed Blake up in it like a little Nigerian king.
Just thought I’d let you know my interaction with Nigeria. (If you can even call it that)
Just got this email. A snail-mail version has been delivered to our department a few times, as well.
Who the hell would read this and think it doesn’t stink to high heaven? And tscha, right, like I’m going to fax this guy to tell him I’m not interested.
But, hey, if any of you guys are, be my guest. . .
I checked some of the snail mail (one of the profs has them tacked up on his bulletin board) and they were each different–different countries, different origins of the large sums of money. The other two were Sierra Leone and the Ivory Coast.