Monday, March 23, 2009

And the Magic Word Would be...Bronco

During the first week of college I met a guy named Hunter. He was a freshmen lacrosse player and a complete southern boy. During the first few weeks we “dated” he used to tell me he wanted to buy a ranch and have some kids with me when we graduated from college. Of course, at 18, I thought his southern accent was irresistible and his dream of a ranch down right adorable. However, things came to an abrupt stop when I found out he was also dating one of my teammates. We started to compare notes and found out our little Hunter was using the same lines. She too was moving to our ranch after graduation.

When we both broke up with Hunter he started to date a few more girls at the same time. Out of duty to the female race, we found the girls and learned he was still using the “ranch” line. At this point we decided Hunter needed to be taught a lesson.

I know I’m dating myself, but freshmen year was the first year I used email. All of us freshmen were pretty excited about this new development and told each other our passwords. (We were young and dumb. Okay?) Anyway, I remember Hunter telling me his password was “Bronco.” I don’t know why I stored that in my memory, but a few months later it became very useful.

One Saturday after morning practice, my teammates and I went to Hunter’s dorm computer lab and wrote an email from his account. We addressed the email to all the girls Hunter had hooked up with during the first semester, and wrote: “Hey girls, who wants to buy a ranch and have some kids with me after graduation? Let me know who’s interested. Hunter.”

The next day I saw Hunter in the cafeteria and he looked completely disheveled. He asked me if I had received that bizarre email and I responded, “Yeah, what was up with that?” He then told me how all these girls were mad at him and demanding to know why he had written the email. I pretended to be concerned and asked if he had called IT Support to find out the origin of the email. His face then dropped and he said, “I called and they told me that the email had come from my account and from my dorm.” Wow, was all I said.

For the next couple of days we continued to send emails out and even started to check his account. It was pretty funny to read some of the responses and his denials. Eventually, the genius wised up and changed his password.

I guess this experience sticks out because it was the first time I blatantly broke the law, and the first time I openly participated in a game of retribution. Don’t worry committing mail fraud was only a phase.

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