A Scammer, Darkly

When I moved to DC, it struck me that the first question anyone asks you at a party in this area is "What do you do?" If the answer isn't immediately comprehensible and/or sufficiently impressive, their eyes glaze over and they find someone else with whom to associate. Someone whose credentials meet or exceed their expectations, or at least trigger their sense of irony ("You're working at a non-profit? That's awesome, it must be so rewarding. Can you hold my suitcase of Big Firm money while I go get another Car Bomb?").

So when approached at a gathering with the ubiquitous work question, I brace myself for the inevitable.

You see, I am a technical writer. 

At first, interest is piqued: "You're a writer?!"

"YesIwritethingslikeusermanuals," I blurt out, before they start asking me if they've "read" me.  Realization dawns on their faces, a split second before their eyes glaze over with boredom. I'm not that kind of writer. I write the things no one reads. 

Aaaaaand they're gone.

Such is the curse of what I like to think of as my seriously underrated profession. Tech writers aren't out saving the world, most of the time. But if you can't make heads or tails of how to operate an MRI machine or put on a HAZMAT suit or get that stupid piece of paper out of the $%^&ing printer, you want us in that manual. You NEED us in that manual.

And particularly, if you are an enterprising person with serious hacking chops but not the best mastery of the language, you really, really need us. Take, for instance, the entrepreneur in charge of what I have to say is the lousiest attempt at scamming Amazon customers I have seen to date. Take a look at what greeted me when I opened an email from "Amazon" this morning:

Let's put aside the obvious fact that if someone sends you an email asking for personal information, no matter how professional it looks, you DO NOT DO IT. Assume you've been living in a world free, thus far, from such nefarious plots. It would stand to reason, even then, that Amazon, a company based out of Seattle that is the biggest online retailer, ever, would hire a copywriter. Or two. Or a hundred. These copywriters would surely have caught the multiple injustices done to the rules of English grammar contained in this communication and fixed them. And then Amazon's Legal department would have resigned, but that's beside the point. 

The point is this: hackers, spammers, schemers, and scalawags of the Internet, there's a time and place for Google translate. Attempting to swindle money from strangers is neither. You went through all that trouble to clone and hack and code, and for what? A missive that no first grader would fall for. At least have the respect for your product to employ the services of someone like, say, myself. Here's what I would send back to you:

So the next time you are overwhelmed with the need to skim a little cash from the coffers of the Interwebs, call your friendly neighborhood tech writer. Who is probably already judging you for your grammar anyway.