I took a break in the middle of my workday to do some much needed grocery shopping. Though cloudy outside, the temperature was pleasant and it was nice just to get out for some air.
I parked at my favorite grocery store and exited my vehicle.
I was lost in thought – which I have to confess is rather typical.
A man came up to me. He was shorter than I am, he was smiling and looked slightly bewildered.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m not asking for money, I’m just lost. Can you tell me where I am?”
“Well, you are on Broadway in the city of O-----.”
“Could you tell me what part of town this is? I am from South Africa and I don’t know the area.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what this neighborhood is called,” said I, longing to be helpful, but also trying to extract my grocery list from my pocket. “How did you get here?”
“I took a cab from San Francisco Airport. Look, here is my receipt!” The gentleman said, holding out a handwritten receipt made in the amount of $500.00.
He put his flip-phone into my hand, “Could you speak to my attorney?”
And thus began the grifters’ confidence game. I’ll briefly outline the rest of the encounter. The “attorney” spoke to me, saying that he wanted me, “the mark,” to ask his “client” a few questions because he, the “attorney” was having trouble understanding his “client’s broken English” (a problem I was not experiencing; the “client” spoke clearly and without any accent, and the phone reception was astonishingly clear for the “attorney,” who I can only assume was in a parked car, nearby). The second question is the one that clarified the entire situation for me:
“Can you ask him if he completed his assignment?”
I posed the peculiar question and the man replied by opening the shoulder bag he carried, revealing what appeared to be a huge wad of cash.
At that point, I spoke into the phone with no particular inflection to my voice, “I am handing the phone back to your client. You can assist him from here on.”
Having handed the phone to the “client,” I made purposely for the door of the grocery store.
(I may seem distracted, but I didn’t fall off a turnip truck.)
//
This is The Classic Grift, my friends, as depicted in “The Sting” and “Paper Moon” and any number of other films and TV Detective shows; these guys were "confidence men." It is so classic, it even has it's own name; it is called "the Pigeon Drop."
I’m taking the time to tell you about my experience because we are living in remarkably difficult times. People are pushed to desperation; we’re all distracted and extremely busy trying to keep a standard of living, if we can. The UN has reported that the United States has the most inequity of any developed nation; U.S. policies benefit the rich and exacerbate poverty. More than 40 million citizens live in poverty, in this great country of ours. Desperate people might well go along with the type of patter I was treated to today, and give up their precious money as “collateral” or “security” towards a potential for great riches.
But let me just say, the bills you see in the bag are not real; the stacks of bills are just plain paper.
And let me just say, don’t offer to drive any “lost client” anywhere, especially not to the nearest ATM.
And let me just say, don’t get into a car with any “lost client” and his “attorney” or some “cab/Uber/Lyft driver” who might show up on the scene.
And let me just say, there is the possibility of any number of really, really bad scenarios that can spin out from what seems like an innocent encounter with a lost waif in a parking lot. And all of the really, really bad things would happen only to you.
The best thing you can do is speak in an easy, friendly manner, turn and walk away casually, but purposefully, toward the nearest open door. Once inside, report what is happening and/or call the police. Don’t waste time trying to take a photo, just get yourself away.
Of course, by the time you report it, the individuals will have made their escape…
//
Addendum.
This entire silly episode of my life started in the most innocuous fashion. I thought the guy was asking for directions, until it became apparent that the man and his confederate on the flip phone were angling for something else.
Will this experience stop me from giving directions to people who request them on crowded sidewalks and in busy parking lots because this happened? No, I will not stop doing so.
Why did I write about it? Well, I learned about such scams on a rainy Friday in Junior High School, when the social studies teacher decided to show an old black and white film that talked all about and depicted such scams, followed by a class discussion. I don't know if that film still exists (perhaps social studies teachers have a newer film to show!).
Can you find out about scams on the internet? Yes. But most people would not take the time to look into it because most people are of the mind that "It couldn't ever happen to me," "I would never fall for that," "I'm too intelligent to be tricked."
And that, dear friends, is precisely why I wrote about it. We all believe we are so intelligent and so on guard at all times that we could never fall for some scammer's tale. We would never be so gullible.
But even the most vigilant of us are basically trusting individuals, happy to step into the breach to help strangers with minor difficulties. Grifters capitalize on the best part of human nature to gain confidence; this is why they are called "confidence people." Once they have hooked your natural good will, they then dangle a carrot called "greed."
It is a simple psychological game such people run, and it is unfortunate how successful the game can be. This game does not seem intrusive, not at all, unlike the continual barrage of robocalls from the non-existent "Microsoft Refund Center."
I had my early lesson in critical thinking over 40 years ago, and this incident happened only a few days ago. I'm glad I had the lesson back then, and was able to recall it when a stranger flashed what looked like (but most certainly was not) a bag full of money at me.
I walked away.