I saw that one of my friends had sent me a gift online. "Hooray! A gift!" I thought as I clicked the link and kept clicking through to get to my gift, not reading what I was agreeing to before clicking each "Next" button. When I finally got to my gift, I saw that it was points on a social-network betting site. I'm not much of a bettor, what with all my stingy Scots-Irish blood, so I closed the window.
That's when I saw the first "out-of-office" messages start filling my inbox. To my absolute horror, I learned that one of the terms I'd agreed to was forwarding the offer to everyone in my address book. That would include my family, friends, colleagues, past and present professional contacts, ex-flames and others I've fallen out with along the way, my attorney, physician, banker, dozens of people whose names I don't recognize and countless customer service representatives.
With my tail tucked firmly between my legs, I crafted and sent out a mass apology in an attempt to save face. Then I stayed up until two, chain-smoking on the deck and occasionally checking the "Ha ha! You're a dumbaxx!" replies from my friends.
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