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Save Karyn

Page 31

by Karyn Bosnak


  As excited as I was, I thought I was going to barf. I didn’t eat lunch. I really felt sick. I couldn’t work, and thankfully Randy picked up the slack. Later that day, I opened an e-mail from someone saying that I was in a Norwegian newspaper. They even gave me a link. When I clicked it, a picture from my website was again up, with an article that I couldn’t even read.

  “Nå kan du betale Karyns kredittkortgjeld

  Av: Bjørn Tore Øren (12. jul 2002 13:08, ny 13:10)

  Karyn var litt vel hissig med kredittkortene sine for et par måneder siden. Nåtrenger hun din hjelp for å bli kvittproblemet.

  Ved hjelp av nettstedet Savekaryn.com håper hun å samle inn så mange småsummerat gjelden blir nedbetalt. Hun oppfordrer alle som kommer innom til å sendehenne penger via betalingstjenesten Paypal, eller ved hjelp av en gammeldagssjekk.

  Siden Karyn skylder $20 000 til kredittkortselskapene, trenger hun å appelleretil de generøse aspektene ved sværtmange nettbrukere. Hun konkurrererdessuten med en rekke ideelle organisasjoner, som fortjener pengene nesten likemye.

  Uansett, på Savekaryn.com kan du følge (den foreløpig trege) nedtellingen motgjeldfrihet, og lese om hvordan Karynselv hjelper til ved, for eksempel, ådrikke vann fra springen i stedet forflaskevann. Eventuelt kan du se på noenav de raffe klærne som landet Karyn i enmyr av trøbbel.”

  All I could read was “savekaryn.com” and “Karyn.” Quickly enough though, I had a translation of it in my inbox from a nice Norwegian named Haavard. It was like a snowball effect. The e-mails kept coming in. By the end of the day I had over two hundred. As I packed up my stuff to go home, I checked my e-mail once more and saw one that said “Movie Rights” in the subject line. I opened it up.

  I’m a Creative Executive for a film production company in Los Angeles. I think your story is really interesting. I was looking at your website and I think you have a really funny take on this whole thing. I’m wondering if the film rights are available. Have you given any thought to your story being a movie? Any good stories that aren’t on the website?

  I looked at his e-mail address and saw that it ended in “@spe.sony.com.” I typed www.spe.sony.com into my browser and was brought to the home page of Sony Pictures Entertainment.

  “Randy,” I said, showing it to him. “Look at this e-mail. Do you think this is a joke or something?”

  “Sony Pictures? No fucking way!” he said. “What do you mean a joke?”

  “You know how you can get free e-mail addresses at places like hotmail and stuff? Do you think you can sign up for one on some Sony site somewhere where your e-mail would end in @spe.sony.com?”

  “I doubt it,” he said. “E-mail him back.”

  With Randy sitting next to me, I e-mailed him back and we set up a time to talk the following week.

  That night I did go home and barf. I was freaked out. I called Naomi and had her ask her husband, who is an attorney, if lying about my age would be considered misleading and fraudulent. He laughed. I also asked her to ask him if the fact that I said I was a “nice girl” was misleading, because I have been known to steal a boyfriend or two. He again laughed and assured me that what I was doing wasn’t illegal.

  Later that night, I called my sister, Lisa, and told her. She was disappointed about the debt, but thought the website was hilarious. She thought that my mom would understand and suggested that I tell her, but wasn’t so sure about my dad. We agreed that he would probably think the website was funny, but not the debt. My dad has always been very careful with his money, and I didn’t want to let him know I was a big mess.

  Friday, July 12, 2002

  Tonight, I decided to talk to my neighbor’s tomato plants to help them grow more quickly. He’s got like 10 of them, and he isn’t going to be able to eat all those tomatoes. So I figure if I talk to them and he sees me, and then the tomatoes grow more quickly and get really, really big, he’ll give me some for free. It was an investment.

  Saturday, July 13, 2002

  Today I was digging through my closet pulling out stuff to sell on eBay, and I came across an old laundry card. You know, one of those things that you put money on to do your laundry. So I marched down to the Laundry and checked the balance and I had $3.25 on it still! AND the card is worth $2 if I turn it in, so I just scored $5.25 today!

  On Saturday, I checked my mailbox but I didn’t have any letters. But once again my inbox was full. I received some e-mails from people in Venezuela and Australia, both telling me that radio stations were talking about savekaryn.com. I also found out that I was on another blog called Memepool.com, and was also listed on a website called Majorgeeks.com. I was flattered to be considered a geek!

  I spoke with the editor from Business Week, who told me that I could be the face of consumer debt today! She said I was exactly what millions of Americans in debt looked like. Not physically—but the profile. I was educated and worked hard, but I spent too much. She assured my anonymity, and I faxed her a copy of my bills to prove to her that I did indeed owe the money. She said that she needed it to show her boss.

  And finally I had my interview with the journalist from Canada, who told me that her article was being written for the National Post, which was like USA Today in Canada. She said it had one million readers. She was very friendly and seemed to understand my plight. I was careful not to tell her my last name, and she understood why I wanted to remain anonymous. Afterward, I gave myself a pedicure to celebrate.

  Sunday, July 14, 2002

  Let’s be honest here…gnarly feet suck. And no matter how poor you may be, there is no excuse for gnarly feet. Especially in sandal season, when not only you, but everyone has to look at your feet. So, today I decided to give myself an at-home pedicure. I soaked, scrubbed and moisturized. I trimmed, filed and painted. And voila! Purdy feet. I did it for myself, I did it for my coworkers, I did it for the strangers on the train. AND I saved about $30.

  That night, while writing my weekly update, I made the decision not to write about any of the radio stations or the interview with the National Post, or Business Week, or the movie guy—or anything like that, for that matter, because I didn’t want to jinx anything. I had a feeling that if I started bragging about it on my website it would all go away. So I decided to keep it as simple as possible, and kept to my formula.

  During that week, I got 21,932 hits on my website and I made $132.90 in donations. I was so happy when I was done that I decided to spread the joy. So at the end of my weekly update I wrote:

  Say hello to a stranger this week, smile to your bus driver, be nice to your doormen (if you have them), and take in the sunshine! Life is too short for anything less.

  I was starting to believe that.

  $19,819.36 TOTAL DEBT July 7, 2002

  - $125.00 my money

  - $157.90 your money

  - $2.74 eBay sales

  $19,533.72 TOTAL DEBT July 14, 2002—WEEK 3

  FIFTEEN

  THE DAILY Me-MAIL

  E-MAILS TO ME ABOUT ME—UPDATED DAILY!

  DATE: July 14, 2002

  FROM: Low

  TO: Karyn

  SUBJECT: yer site…

  How about this, you put on a pair of panties and a t-shirt, have a friend take a photo of you from the neck down, and then mail me the same panties that are in the picture. I’ll give you some money for that…

  FROM: Karyn

  TO: Low

  SUBJECT: Re: yer site

  Dear Low:

  I got a better idea…instead of the undies, how about I send you my flip-flops? You see, it’s summer and it’s hot. And you know what that means? I sweat. Yep. Sweat. From head to toe. And you know what happens to your flip-flops when your feet sweat and you are forced to wear them day in and day out because you are on a budget and can’t afford another pair? Well—they stink. Like old vinegar, ripe cheese—they stink. So if you’d like to see what I smell like, I’d rather send you my flip-flops than my panties. Let me know…

  Karyn

  DATE: Jul
y 15, 2002

  FROM: Donna

  TO: Karyn

  SUBJECT: question

  Since I’ve been in a similar situation I’d really like to know, where is your pride?

  FROM: Karyn

  TO: Donna

  SUBJECT: Re: question

  I left it at Bloomingdale’s.

  DATE: July 17, 2002

  FROM: Diane

  TO: Karyn

  SUBJECT: hey

  this is so cool i am probably going to be like you when i get older but oh welli have one dollar in my name one unounus hahahaha i don’t have anything to do with it so might as well give it to you i like doing weird things well anyway i do not know how to get it to you but it is right there do you see it i see it just gotta keep my cat from eating it she does things like that bad cat bad

  FROM: Karyn

  TO: Diane

  SUBJECT: Re: hey

  Dear Diane,

  Crack is bad.

  Best,

  Karyn

  WEEK 4: I LOVE THIS WORLD!

  The momentum that seemed to start the previous week only picked up in Week 4. On Monday and Tuesday, I did six radio interviews—all from the park next door while “getting coffee.” And I did okay. The hosts weren’t all that friendly, but I always kept my cool. I made a vow not to be mean back to anyone. “Kill them with kindness.”

  And every time I went back to my desk when I was done, there was money from listeners. So it seemed to be worth it. News of my website made it to Iceland, there was blurb in the Detroit Free Press, and news of the website even made it to the South China Morning Post. Seriously. I started getting money from Hong Kong. In addition to that I got another interview request from the Wall Street Journal. Me, in Business Week and the Wall Street Journal? Seriously. How screwed up was that?

  Tuesday evening I called the “movie rights” guy. He did in fact work for a production company under the Sony umbrella. I didn’t know what to say or even if I should talk to him. You always hear stories about people getting screwed over and stuff, and I just didn’t know what to do. So I briefly told him my story and at the end of the conversation, he just said that he would keep in touch with me.

  I started getting e-mails from all sorts of people identifying with what I was going through. I got a “good luck” from some sorority girls because “they felt my pain!” I got more e-mails from people who owed the same amount of money, some even more. I think that people started to identify with who I was. I think they saw a bit of themselves in my story and me. Some of the money that I got came with notes that said “I’m giving you this so you can buy some normal food,” and “Here’s three for the cat.” People loved the cat. In four short days, Elvis had acquired many admirers.

  And with a passion, every day, I kept updating my Daily Buck:

  Monday, July 15, 2002

  I only have $3 ’til Friday, so today I ate a half a bag of stale Baked Tostitos and some old bread and butter pickles. I ate Tostitos for breakfast, Tostitos for lunch, and Tostitos for dinner, followed by the pickles.

  Tuesday, July 16, 2002

  Tonight I went to the grocery store and bought a box of macaroni & cheese. It was 99 cents. It wasn’t Kraft. As I was paying, the lady handed me one of those foot-long coupons that they always give you nowadays, and I won a free turkey! I seriously won a 13-pound free turkey, which retails for $15.47! Holy smokes! 3 bucks ’til Friday and I win a free turkey! I don’t know how to cook a turkey, but I’m guessing this puppy’s going to feed me for weeks.

  Wednesday, July 17, 2002

  Today my minidisk player ran out of batteries on the train on the way to work. Since I don’t have any money for new batteries, I sat there and stared at the man across from me. I saved myself about $2, but have really started to wonder why men jam themselves into pants that are too small and then sit with their legs wide open on the train.

  That week in addition to listing my gold-rim Gucci sunglasses for the week, I listed my Winning in the Cash Flow Business program. Maybe someone else would be able to figure out what a real estate note was.

  On Wednesday, the National Post article came out. Since I didn’t live in Canada and couldn’t get my own copy, I went online to read it. I was still nervous because I still didn’t know what slant the reporter would take. I located it in the Arts & Life section. The headline said, “Karyn wants you to help pay off her credit cards.” It started out:

  “In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts,” wrote Emerson. Judging from the number of times I heard friends say “I thought about doing that, but…” when I put them on to www.savekaryn.com, “Karyn” is something of a genius…

  No way! She just called me a genius! I kept reading…

  While Karyn tries to answer all her e-mails—coming from as far a field as Norway and Australia—she is also trying to hang on to her anonymity. At this point, her parents don’t know about the site (“They’re not very Web savvy”) and only a handful of close friends do. Her mother, she says, would find it funny, but she isn’t so sure about her dad…

  Ain’t that the truth! All in all, it was a really friendly article. That same day, a Canadian freelance journalist who lived in New York and wrote for the New York Times requested an interview. I mean, the Wall Street Journal was one thing, but the New York Times was another. It was much more widely read. Could you imagine if they did a story? So we set up a time to talk that evening. She happened to be friends with a reporter who wrote for the New York Post and told her, so we also set up a time to talk that evening.

  The New York Post is my favorite newspaper. It’s a bit gossipy, but that’s why it’s my favorite. So the thought of being in the paper both excited me and frightened me. Yes, I thought it was funny when they printed stories about Hillary Clinton and showed her walking outside with no makeup on, but did I want to be portrayed like that? No. So I was nervous.

  By the end of the night, after I’d talked to both reporters, I felt a little bit better. They were both New York City women and knew where I was coming from. I made sure to tell the New York Post girl that it was my favorite paper and I read it every day. I thought maybe this would assure they would be somewhat nice.

  By the time Friday rolled around, I did three more radio interviews, and had received over eight hundred e-mails. Exhausted after work, because I still had a job to do during all of this, I went to the corner store. Pack-Man was there.

  “You have a lot of mail,” he said.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Yeah, they all want to Save Karyn!” he said really loudly.

  “Shh!” I said, looking around because I didn’t want him to blow my cover.

  “What time do you open tomorrow?” I asked.

  “I’m actually going to go there right now. If you want to come and get it, you can,” he said.

  “Please!” I said.

  We left the corner store and Pack-Man and I walked two doors down to his store. He unlocked the front door and I went in. I opened the mailbox and it was almost full!

  “Oh my!” I said.

  “What is this project?” he asked.

  “It’s a secret,” I said. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Okay,” he said. “It’s not illegal, is it?”

  “No!” I said. I hoped it wasn’t.

  “Okay,” he said.

  With that I left Pack-Man and ran home.

  “Scott!” I yelled, coming through the front door. “Look!”

  I put all my mail on the table. There had to be over thirty letters.

  “No way!” he said.

  “Yes!”

  “Are you going to open them?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but I need gloves and goggles and stuff,” I said. I wasn’t about to get no anthrax.

  “I agree,” he said. Scott pulled out a pair of big yellow cleaning gloves from underneath the kitchen sink, and I got a pair of plastic electrician’s goggles that I’d bought once when I was going to make a mosaic tab
le (it was a quickly abandoned project). I put them on and started opening.

  Every letter was like the nice e-mails. They said things like “I’ve been there!” and “Good luck!” But there was something a bit sweeter about them. To take the time to pull out paper, write a note—someone even put glitter hearts in their letter—that meant a lot. All for some girl they didn’t know! A girl named Katie who lived in Florida even made me a mixed tape. The envelopes had a lot of singles, a few fives and tens. One even had a twenty-dollar bill inside with a note that said:

  Don’t pay your credit cards with this. Do something frivolous but worth it. I’ve done the mac & cheese 3 times a day thing, it’s a long road and every once in a while you need a break. Go get a caramel mocha frappe latte thingy, see a movie, buy a couple of cheesy magazines—just spend it!

  All I want is for you to do something completely anonymous for someone someday, where they have no chance of figuring out who did it.

  XOXO

  Nice. They were all so nice! I felt blessed.

 

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