‘I had been looking for gold trainers for months and finally found them on a second-hand retail site,’ writes Brigid Delaney. ‘But my pleasure faded as I tried to cross Old South Head Road.’ Photograph: mirror-images/Getty Images View image in fullscreen ‘I had been looking for gold trainers for months and finally found them on a second-hand retail site,’ writes Brigid Delaney. ‘But my pleasure faded as I tried to cross Old South Head Road.’ Photograph: mirror-images/Getty Images Opinion Life and style Scams have become a constant part of life. In a world full of distrust, how can we know what is real? Brigid Delaney There is something depressing about being scammed. Every unknown number, every marketplace purchase, every text with a link now arrives with suspicion
M y day started with exciting news. It was a long and gushing email from popular Australian breakfast radio show host Sally Sara saying she was following up on a previous conversation (huh? wot?) and would love to interview me about my 2009 book, This Restless Life, on her program.
“I remain genuinely enthusiastic about the opportunity to feature your work and to welcome you to an upcoming author conversation. I believe your insights and experience would make for a thoughtful and engaging discussion, and I would be delighted to work with you to create an enjoyable experience for both you and our audience,” she wrote.
How bizarre, I thought. My book came out in 2009, I had not spoken to Sara about an interview, and I knew from years of listening to her program that it covered politics in depth but not out-of-print books published almost 20 years ago.
Read more As the day went on, I wondered if I’d been scammed. If it was a genuine request, why did the email come from a gmail account and not one connected to the ABC?
But scammed for what? What would a scammer want from an author? What would be their ask?
I was thinking all this as I was lacing up a pair of gold trainers that I had bought second-hand from Depop. They were beautiful! As I got the train to Bondi Junction for an appointment with my shaman, a woman sitting opposite complimented me on my shoes. I told her with pride that I had been looking for gold trainers for months and finally found them on a second-hand retail site.
But my pleasure faded as I tried to cross Old South Head Road.
I was suddenly unsteady on my feet, as if suffering from vertigo or drunk. I stumbled, almost falling into oncoming traffic. The soles of my feet felt weird. Was I having a stroke?
I looked down. My right gold trainer was splitting in two – the base of the shoe was in the process of separating from the bit that held my foot.
After my appointment, the shaman gave me rubber bands to hold the shoe together but, on the way back to the station, the other shoe peeled away from the sole, also causing me to trip over my feet, as I tried to run across a road. I ended up walking barefoot four blocks to the station.
Avoiding glass, feet freezing, people staring at me as if I was a freak, I thought of the description on Depop – “Barely worn!” – and wondered, not for the first time today, if I had been scammed and the seller had just glued some broken shoes together with a dab of Clag.
The next day, the scams keep coming. An email from a US television company that wanted to interview me about my Stoicism book. I just had to send them money! And, in another email, a US book club that excitedly offered to include my book on their list that re…