there's something about mary

Evening at the Chateau de Healy.
My mobile phone beeps imperiously.
A text message has winged its way through on the ether.
I cast my eyes on it.
And lo!
This...

Greetings Ireland's greatest living poet.
I hope you won't mind the intrusion.
Will you be in Dublin tomorrow for The March For Life?
If so I'd like to buy you a coffee.
It would be fun to spend some time on the 4th of July with someone who actually appreciates America.
It's quite hard to find such people on this island.
Regards.
Mary
(Female. 30 years.)

I looked at the message closely.
It seemed almost too good to be true.
Could it be a trap?
At spy school they taught us that anything that looks too good to be true probably is too good to be true.
I could see the baited hooks.
She'd called me Ireland's greatest living poet.
That's a hook.
She'd mentioned The March For Life.
That's a hook.
She'd mentioned America.
That's a hook.
She'd offered to pay for the coffees.
Hoo boy, for a tight wad like me that's definitely a hook.
She'd inadvertently mentioned she was of the womanly sexual gender persuasion orientation type of thing and 30 years of age.
No need to labour the point.
Truly my cup runneth over.
Hook, line and sinker.
But what if it is a trap?
The classic double cross.
Maybe she's a beautiful woman but also a bootboy for Independent Newspapers intent on revenge.
Or what if it's a triple cross?
What if she's a beautiful woman, a bootboy for Independent Newspapers, and also a member of Al Qaeda?
Or how about if it's a quadruple cross?
Beautiful woman, bootboy for Independent Newspapers, member of Al Qaeda and in her spare time freelancing for the Johnston Press?
Or maybe a quintuple cross?
Beautiful woman, bootboy for the Indo, member of AQ, freelancing for the Jonners, but also a former employee of the Irish nursy, teacher, cop, civil servant, bus driver, free loading no working State Sector, who have extorted ridiculous pay rises from our corrupt kleptocratic Fianna Fail government causing a calamitous economic collapse, (no it wasn't the banks, the senior bankers should be in jail, but it was the nice middle of the road people who sowed the seeds of our present absolute economic devastation with their extortion racket pay claims, and you know what, their kids for whom they pretend to care so much, are gonna pay the most dearly because there will be a civil war before long and this one will be hell on earth) the exposure of which thievery she somehow blamed on me.
Or a sextuple cross.
All of the above, but she wants to have sex with me as well.
Ah if only we could have our druthers.

The ghost of Sigmund Frood appeared at my shoulder.
"Sometimes Heelers," he murmured, "ze innocuous text message is just ze innocuous text message."