Brother, can you spare a domain?

A CEO of a construction company emailed me once, emphasizing how he’d have to “put food on the family table” than pay any type of fee for a domain I owned. In fact, he outright said that he needed the domain name and by declaring his inability to pay, I should hand it over to him. When I Googled his name and examined the location of his IP, it was evident that my family man lived in a very rich neighborhood in New England.

Then there was that email from a self-professed poor student from Central America, who had somehow discovered his true dream was to own the .com variant of a very busy .net domain. He needed the .com which I had, but he could not afford to pay for it, on his small budget. A little co-ordinated research done by my contacts in Latin America returned the location of the multi-national corporation that had set eyes on my domain.

Yet another time, a very inquisitive domain “speculator” called me up to share his excitement about “domain investing”. I wasn’t exactly excited hearing how he and his two partner buddies “scrounged up $300 each” to pay me a handsome grand for a 10-year old developed domain. When he made the mistake of giving me his phone number, I looked him up; only to find that his company had been bought up by Yellow Pages for several million dollars, a month earlier.

Greed, anyone?

Now, don’t think for a second that I am a heartless, frigid entrepreneur who enjoys to watch people suffer. On the contrary. I was never filthy rich and even by today’s standards I am neither rich or well-off. I’d say, I live comfortably by my own definition of comfort and needs. I don’t own a yacht, or an SUV, nor do I spend my time sipping pina coladas on some golden sandy beach. I do reside in Florida though – the state that pays in cents and sunshine.

But I detest beggars that think they can outsmart me in my own game. It used to be confusing at first, then intriguing, then funny – but once the emails started piling up with the proliferation of bulk emailing software, it’s combat time. As a former military, I am aware of the principles of being alert and I thoroughly examine the grounds around my perimeter. Every incoming offer is scrutinized, every generic “John Smith” with a Gmail address is seen as a 99% attempt to scam me – every inquiry from a “female investor” is seen as a lame attempt to capitalize on my XY genes.

I’d rather receive a lowball offer, which I’d then attempt to negotiate upon or not – again, based on my research of the person making the offer – than to waste time trying to reason with a preying, lying scammer, who uses a variety of social engineering methods to extract my property for free. I’ve learned that one has to earn their worth in business and life in general – begging as a profession does not cut it with me.