If it’s not for me, it’s gone — no forwarding, no replies Once upon a time, I thought I’d struck digital gold, scoring my actual name as my Gmail address back when Google’s email service was shiny and new. I was the early bird who caught the worm. Unfortunately, that worm has been a constant stream of other people’s mistakes, and I’m finally cutting the line. For years, I’ve been the accidental pen pal of countless strangers. Football fans, insurance companies, schools, medical clinics, and even Marvel enthusiasts — all happily sending me messages meant for some other Cole Cooper. I’ve received everything from heartfelt personal notes to confidential login instructions. And because I’m apparently nicer than I should be, I’ve spent years forwarding, replying, or politely explaining, “Sorry, wrong Cole.” That stops today. The volume of misdirected email has reached the point where I’m no longer a free customer service agent for the world’s sloppy data entry. Going forward, I will no...
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