City of Shared Stories Kuala Lumpur

I am at a cybercafe because my modem at home had been fried by lightning. The connection here isn't so good, and while waiting for a web-page to load, I peep at what the guy next to me is writing. He is maybe in his 60s and typing slowly: he looks carefully at the keyboard, finds each letter, presses with his right index finger, and confirms the results on the screen. He wears bifocals. He writes: 'I hope you will give me a bit more time to deposit the money for the processing fee...' I read more and I think, but do not say, OMG! He is replying to one of those scam messages! Should I warn him? Should I say, "Uncle, that isn't a genuine proposal. You won't earn the millions you have been promised. They're stealing from you!" I imagine myself saying it, the words form and are on the verge of being verbalised. But then I think: What if it's a genuine message to someone he knows, who happens to live in a different continent? Won't he then snap at me for reading his private email, and demand that I mind my own business? (He has every right; why am I snooping?) But he doesn't seem that rich or that tech-savvy and I'd be sad if he threw away his life savings. Should I pretend I didn't see anything? Won't that be like keeping silent when you hear a neighbour abusing their maid, and before you know it she is in hospital with awful burns? Or maybe even the hospital MORGUE with awful burns. But this isn't a matter of life and death (unless he goes bankrupt and commits suicide).

I vacate my seat. I tell the counter-boy: "Your connection sucks!" My indecision has put me in a bad mood.