Thanks, but ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND EVEN ASKING ME?

The story goes like this.

I was driving home from teaching when a text bubble popped up, overlaying Waze. It was from Faygie Gut, of Jr. fame. We’re friendly, but don’t text on a regular basis. I tapped on it (I know, I know, I’m driving, please don’t judge me) and read it quickly.

K this is actually really fun! I just bought a gift for someone — u get a bio of what they like and u can choose a gift for them on amazon, which is fun also! and it seems like it works —  people say they get gifts back!!

It’s like we were in the middle of a conversation I didn’t know about.

And then a graphically stylized message popped up:

SECRET SISTER EXCHANGE

It’s the most wonderful time of year! Who is interested in a gift exchange? You are welcome to join, no matter where you live.

How it works:

You only have to buy ONE gift valued at $10 or more (Amazon is best) and send it on to a secret sister, and you will receive 6-36 in return! Let me know if you’re interested and I will send you the information! Please don’t ask to participate if you’re not willing to spend the $10! Happy FriendsGiving! Respond to this message & I’ll message you the instructions.

Seriously. A do-over of the chain letter of the ’90s. But I was driving, so I concentrated on the road and paid no attention to the little message bubbles calling my name. It was Thursday, Shabbos food shopping day, so I pulled into a spot at Seasons, grabbed a cart, and started making my rounds. I opened my phone to review my shopping list, and saw another message from Faygie.

Nu Nu, don’t be so cynical (laughing tears emoji)

Me? Cynical? It’s my middle name. But I’m not good at ignoring people, and how could I nicely and gently tell her thanks, but ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND EVEN ASKING ME. I texted back that I’d been driving, then shopping. I’d be in touch later. (And maybe later would never come, but I responded to her, that was enough for me.)

The fact that I’m telling you this story means one thing: I did it. I tried out the 2020 version of chain letters. This was done, of course, to benefit and inform the collective knowledge of the FF readership. And there was also a teeny tiny chance that I’d get a buncha of gifts that I have no need of. What more could a woman ask for?

How It Went Down

I’m a cynic, you know that already. Faygie and I messaged back and forth. She was eager and enthusiastic and I was a killjoy. But I’ll admit there was something niggling in me. You love surprises, Esther, and you love presents. What if the planets aligned for a moment and it worked — you’d get both. I’m not sure why my inner voice was so hopeful and desperate for $10 trinkets, but it was.

Still, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. The cheapo in me was not wasting $10 on a gift for a real person if reciprocity was not on the horizon. But then brilliance struck: I can LifeLab it. Ten dollars was worth a column, right?

I e-mailed Bassi about my idea, and these were her words: “Let me tell ya, they never work.” But she gave me her blessing to waste $10 if I so desired.

Before we get back to the present, let’s remind ourselves why we (me, Bassi, and almost everyone I know — besides Faygie) know that chain letters are the worst ever.

Each of us experienced something different, but whether we were promised recipes, stickers, letters, or a dollar from many strangers, the promises were left unfulfilled. A broken promise breaks a man’s trust in the world. (I think that explains the entire 21st century. Blame it on chain letters.)

The instructions on the chain letters were simple: Send a letter, dollar, recipe, packet of stickers, to the first person on the list provided, then edit the list to remove the first person, moving every name up a slot and putting your own name last, then send it off to a designated number of friends and the chain would continue indefinitely.

Some mean ones would threaten you, “This letter has been circulating since the days of the Revolutionary War, and Dolly Madison saved the portrait of Washington and this letter when she fled a burning White House. If you break this chain, Dolly Madison’s hair and the Barbary Pirates’ breath will haunt your every movement.” And those were the nicer threats.

Of course, even if you did continue the chain, you never got anything in return. And if you broke the chain you felt like you’d ruined history. Dolly Madison managed to keep this going, and you couldn’t get your mother to give you stamps? And that’s why we all hate chain letters. They’ve either failed us, or we failed them, and we feel awful either way.

So I got the details from Faygie. Oh, shucks, were they long and poorly written with too many explanations. But with my excellent reading comprehension skills, I figured out I was supposed to send a gift to the first person on the list. Then, when I enlisted other people for my friendly pyramid scheme, I’d remove that person, move person number two to the first place and put my name and info in the second place. Zeh hu.

I also had to write a short bio about things I like, am into, etc., so the people I recruit have some idea of what to buy me. This is where I froze. What do I like, what am I into — that can be bought for $10?

When Fagye first mentioned the bios to me, I blithely messaged, I like diamonds and all things expensive. Plane tickets to exotic locations and Hermes scarves. She laughed like it was funny, although I was serious. But I’d need a new bio. I looked at the two samples I had to work with, Faygie’s and her friend Hadassah, who I’d be sending a gift to.

Hadassah’s read: Heya! I love all things cowboy, art, and things that get me thinking. Kid books with adult messages are faves and weird fun things to do are always a winner! Lately into cool rocks and gemstones, yea that kind!

Favorite colors are deep purple and turquoise.

I love being a part of connecting and spontaneous experiences as this.

Faygie’s read: Hi!

I love having fun!! And experiencing new things and places with fun people.

(So... some things on my wishlist are Games to play, puzzles for adults, sports, music, or nature items, tickets to broadway! )

I’m obsessed with musical theatre and have a big thing for well-illustrated kids’ books.

I love brown and rust orange, will hopefully be renovating on a budget soon, and would love a varsity jacket! Lol

Thanks!!

This is really fun. Happy Friendsgiving you too!!

Both of them were way too perky and fun sounding for me. I’m more like the scratch in the record when it’s playing the hokey-pokey, pointing out, “Yes, you seriously are twirling yourself around because a kid song is telling to do so, you may now continue.”

I figured I had time to work on my bio. First, I’d buy a gift for Hadassah. I opened up Amazon and typed in cowboy. That was the first thing on Hadassah’s list. All things Dallas Cowboys (the football team, for those who don’t know) showed up, and I wasn’t sorting. Finding a kids’ book would actually require some thinking, so next.

Rocks and gemstones are expensive, what part of $10 did she not read? I typed in turquoise, and sorted for price. A pair of earrings for $9.99 popped up. Perfect. I added to cart, and bought. I think that was the fastest purchase I’ve ever made in my life (I’m the annoying, agonizing, second-guesser type.)

Now I had to do the part I’d been avoiding. How could I recruit people when I was such a skeptic myself? How could I even ask people to be part of a chain letter? I have a hard time asking close family and friends to buy raffle tickets for my son’s yeshivah, but I push myself to do so because we have a fundraising minimum obligation, and I’m not paying all that out of my own pocket (if you want to buy raffle tickets, go to ykopraffle.com and put my name in the referral box). And now, of my own volition, I’m asking people to join me in a scam?

Good news. Out of love and devotion to all of you, I put indignities aside, and posted the scheme to my WhatsApp status. My first one ever. I didn’t even post a status when my son was born, but a Friendsgiving chain letter had me sell out. And then I posted to a bunch of chats I’m on.

Not all, I had to preserve some dignity. (Bruriah Teacher’s Chat, I spared you.) But I posted it to my immediate family chat. They ignored it. I posted it to my husband’s family chat. My sister-in-law said, “Is this a joke?” and that was that. I posted it to my extended family chat. There I got some chatter. One cousin, Malkie Zeilengold( have to give her credit for being my Nachshon), was game right away. Of course another cousin pipes up, “They’re illegal,” and posts a Wikipedia link confirming that.

Illegal?! I froze a moment, I’m a rule follower. But I was already in too deep.

I’m still doing it. I’m sure the FBI is coming after me for a $10 gift to a stranger, I typed with puffed bravado. I clicked on the link and quickly read through it, just in case it was really illegal. My super reading comprehension skills had me breathing easily in seconds.

The key word here is substantial. It’s a vague and fuzzy word. And I smell a loophole. SEND ME PRESENTS, I posted.

Besides Malkie, two other cousins messaged me privately, they thought they might join. One dropped out when she realized she had to recruit other people. The second one tried, but her friend got so bogged down by the instructions that she backed out. I’m telling you, those instructions need rewriting — know anyone fit for the job?

Malkie was ready to roll, I just had to send her the instructions, my bio included. I wrote quickly, which was good, no time for me to overthink (second thought, maybe I should’ve reread it). It read,

Hey all,

I’m a snarky cynic who loves Harry Potter and the color green. I love reading buzzfeed articles on gadgets that will change my life. Of course I never buy any of them. Oh also I love podcasts and behavioral economics. Not sure how that translates into gifts. But just saying. Anywho, prove this skeptic wrong and make it rain gifts! Huzzah!

Malkie messaged me soon after with a link to what she was sending Faygie: Bump ‘n Bounce Body Bumpers. Basically inflatables that encircle your body and you bounce around and off people. Fun, in a word.

Malkie continued messaging me, encouraging me to post on my WhatsApp status again. I did, but I think people must’ve sensed my desperation and awkwardness, no one even said boo. They all thought, “We’ll be nice and won’t point out the fool she’s making of herself.” It’s not fair, some people are good at this marketing thing, their enthusiasm is real — with me, everyone knows I’m trying too hard, there’s an air of desperation in my copy, my font. I for sure picked the wrong background color too.

I continued trying to get others to join on other forums. There was some interest on the FT chat — more like curiosity — but that petered out. Lea Pavel said she thought she’d do it. So did Chaia Frishman. When I sent it to my BFF, she said yes, until I sent her the instructions.

“Can you do it for me?” she asked. I said no. She texted me back two weeks later: Ummm, confession, I forgot to take care of the above. The instructions were really long. (Told you so.) Don’t worry, we’re still friends. I just told her she was winning the Worst Friend Award in my column.

Lea Pavel texted me weeks later as well, she’d thought her sister-in-law would do it, ’cuz it’s “her type,” but not even this sister-in-law was willing to try a new strain of chain letter. Lea tried bribing her niece to do it, but that didn’t work either. People still see scam written all over it.

And so did I. Even as I was recruiting people, I was texting Faygie that I felt like a fraud, that I was duping people, scamming them just by posting on my status. I at least could tell people, “It’s for a column” — that afforded me some dignity, but what about everyone else who doesn’t have a column to hide behind, how could they justify it? Faygie insisted it was legit.

“You bought something, I bought something, your cousin bought something.”

“Losers,” I replied.

But I did my part. Now it was time to sit back and wait. It wasn’t long.

Two days later Faygie messaged me with pictures of her gifts: my cousin’s Bump ‘n Bounce, and a seed starter set. A few days later she got a puzzle. I in the meantime got a green pashmina. I even taped my first unboxing for the fun of it.

I waited a little longer. My cousin Malkie in the meantime was racking up gifts; a scented candle, a kid’s ABC jewelry-making kit, Blink card game, a nd Joshua Tree climbing salve. She sent me a picture of a gift her friend had received (the friend who sent me the pashmina) — a mini donut maker. And then two days later, another package addressed to me: A Harry Potter mug! My life is now complete.

I waited and waited for more gifts, but after a week I realized there would be no more. The chain had stopped. I thought I had six-ish people buying gifts for Faygie, and each would recruit one person at least, so six for me. But no. It stopped at two. And I don’t even know who sent the Harry Potter mug (bless you). And you know who I blame — chain letters. All of us jaded ’90s kids or idealists who’ve had their dreams crushed by chain letters had refused to participate.

The Verdict

The truth of the matter is, this version really works. It just needs more people to have faith in it. I posit three reasons why this version of the chain letter works.

There’s only one degree of separation between you and the gifter/giftee. In classic chain letters, you add your name to the bottom of a list of at least three other people. You have no idea who you are sending your letter/recipe/money to. Here, you can just ask the friend who roped you into this, “Who is this person I’m buying toe warmers/mini pepper spray for?” and they’ll tell you all about said person. This makes the process a bit more intimate and adds a sense of accountability to it. You can’t hide entirely.

Buy-in. In the old chain letters, you sent it on to people and hoped they’d participate. You were lucky if one person did, because, let’s be honest, most people broke the chain. Which is astounding to consider, because we’ve all gotten them. But here you ask people if they’ll participate. You know from the get-go who’s doing it and who’s not. It loses that element of “leap of faith” and having to trust in other people. The cynics are just passed over.

Amazon Prime is too easy. Half the problem of chain letters and recipes and money, etc., was the effort you needed to expend. Copy the letters, get envelopes, get sticker/letter/recipe, get a stamp. (My mother never wanted to waste stamps on this, she didn’t encourage this nonsense. And look how I turned out. Again chain letters are to blame.) Oh, and you had to make it to the mailbox. Here, open Prime, quick search, add to cart, pay, done.

Believe me, you know I’m an expert doubter and stick-in-the-mud. If I say it works, it works. And I’m going to give you a chance to prove me right. Let’s start this Friendsgiving thing all over again.

I’ll altruistically volunteer to go into the number one position. List yourself in the number two spot. Add in your bio. Recruit people to join, they’ll send me gifts (Mishpacha, 5809 16th Ave., Brooklyn, NY 11204), and the people they recruit will send you gifts and so on. It’ll be a glorious social experiment.

I’ve reformed the instructions so they’re super easy, and most importantly, I’ll be showered in shmuntzes. Understand, with this proclamation I’m dethroning myself as the queen of Cynicalia; I’m losing my jaded crown. Please make it worth it.

Is there something you’ve always been curious about but never had the guts to try? Esther just might do it! Send your suggestions to Life Lab at familyfirst@mishpacha.com

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 678)