Just. Plain. Stupid.

It is often said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. But after butting our heads against a brick wall a few times, most people will figure out soon enough that something isn’t right.

David Coleman, however, is not “most people.”

In this stranger-than-fiction true story, Coleman plucks an email address out of thin air and begins using it to sign up with hundreds of online dating sites, create bank accounts, look and apply for work, apply for credit and loans, seek legal advice to help repair his credit, inquire about and register for programs with technical schools and universities, order pizza, sign up for quit smoking courses and even seek counseling. All the while, he remains oblivious to the fact that all the correspondence is going to another David.

Frustrated over not getting any responses to his inquiries and even after being contacted numerous times to alert him to his error, Coleman inexplicably keeps marching on, blissfully unconcerned that he is filling a stranger’s inbox with his sensitive personal information, including his address, phone number, birth date and credit history, not to mention the details of his kinky fetishes.

As this saga goes on with seemingly no end in sight, his namesake grows ever more exasperated as the months drag on, wondering what more he can possibly do to stop the incessant online harassment. Not just from Coleman, but from the otherwise respectable corporate sites, including major brick-and-mortar banks, who won’t let go of an email address once they get it, even after being repeatedly told that it doesn’t belong to their customer.

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