I looked at my Instagram DMs recently and had the dreaded “1 request” notification. I opened it with a sense of trepidation – 9 times out of 10 it’s an unsolicited dick pic or someone asking me to join a gym after I post a picture of myself or someone telling me I’m beautiful and asking me to model flannel shirts for their private collection. It’s not often good news.
But this time it was none of those things. This time it was about a life-changing opportunity. Phew!
I didn’t recognize the username. We’d never interacted. There was never even a “cool” or emoji-only comment. And yet, here was this angel, ready to change my shitty life. She said that I looked like I had a fun spirit (I do!) and that she wanted to take me to Starbucks the next day so we could discuss how to make my life better. I didn’t ask for this, but it was a dream come true.
My first thought, since I’m obsessed with true crime, is that this woman was a modern-day female serial killer, appealing to my good graces so she can murder me and steal my identity. Am I going to end up on Dateline? I put those thoughts aside because she knew how to get to me: bitches love coffee and I never turn down free Starbucks. And she somehow nailed that I hate my life, despite my trying to pretend online that it’s perfect! How was I caught? Did I post too many pictures of cocktails? Too many pictures of my sad feet? How did she know about my sad existence?!
We met for coffee the next day. She was beautiful and charming and seemed totally harmless, despite the fact that she ordered a pink drink at a coffee shop and wore more makeup than I’d ever seen in the daytime. She told me that I didn’t have to do the 9:00-5:00 hustle to be successful, and that I could make six-figures in my first year with her company, even showing me a picture of her paycheck. She told tales of how her product had saved lives. How it could cure illness (both mental and physical, can you believe?) and how I’d empower women in the process. She told me that I had great skin, but it would look even better if I used her company’s cosmetics. “Our product can help you clear up that adult acne and discoloration, and can improve the appearance of wrinkles overnight! People will never guess you’re 45 once you start using our regimen!” Even though I’m only 33, I wasn’t offended. She had my attention. I was ready to learn.
I thanked her for the coffee and presentation, told her I’d have to think about it, and went back to work. It was a lot to process. I sat at my desk, opened my email, said “f*** this” out loud, and walked out the door. I walked away from good health insurance and paid vacation and sick time and a guaranteed salary to follow a dream I didn’t know I had. There was hesitation, of course. The start-up fee cleaned out my savings, and I had to remind myself that I didn’t have a rich husband to fall back on if things went south. But how could it? Thousands of women make money this way. Plus, I was tired of the mundane concerns of every day life. I was tired of blacking out on my way home from work every night. I was tired of waking up before noon every morning. I was tired of the sad desk lunches and meaningless chit-chat with coworkers. How many more “this weather is crazy, right?” conversations could I possibly have? None. The answer was none. I was hooked.
So I’ll be sliding into your DMs soon – let me change your life, too.
*This is all in good fun. We all do what we have to do to earn money for our families, and I regularly use essential oils and other MLM products. However, use better judgement when it comes to reaching out to people you don’t know. It’s creepy and sometimes totally offensive.
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