Four women together, with the lead one saying, "I hate to bother you guys, but do you have a moment? These three girls are stranded. They're from New York. They came down here to hang out and they got robbed of all their money, so now they can't get back, so if you guys can spare anything, it would really help. They don't speak that much English, so I'm just trying to help them out. I live here. I can give you my address and even my email if you want me too."
This is about as clumsy as it gets. First of, for all three to be robbed of all their money, it would have to be at gun point, which is highly improbable in any place an out-of-town daytripper is likely to go in Philly. Secondly, they were not dressed for the cold weather, especially if they were traveling. Approaching young men almost exclusively, they didn't want to be too wrapped up. Thirdly, the speaking "stranger" happened to dress like these foreigners she was trying to help, with the same jean skirt and leggings as one of her poor speakers of English. Amazingly, several dorks gave them money.
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5 comments:
why do you call them a dork?
For all the reasons just listed, for being taken in by such a story. This is one of the oldest scams out there, except that it's usually just one person going around saying he or she's been stranded. When I was around 20, I was approached twice by the same girl with the same story. It seemed fishy the first time, so I didn't give her any money. When she tried it again about six months later, I simply said, "Hey, I know you!" She responded with real anger, "No, you don't," then walked away.
I should add that the girl from 30 years ago did a pretty good job of acting. She would come up to you looking panic-stricken, so it was particularly memorable to see her face turned hard suddenly when I said, "Hey, I know you!"
In this poem, from my collection Some Kind of Cheese Orgy, I describe another con woman, this one encountered at New York's Penn Station. The relevant stanza is in bold:
Tilting Train
I opened this can, thinking
The energy expended
Will not be compensated
By its nutritional values.
Shamefully and defiantly
Chewing, I decided why
Bother chewing at all?
Why not just kill myself?
But this poem is not about that.
This morning: mouth open, focused,
A young East Asian woman stitched
Onto a circular frame while ambling
Across Penn Station’s vast concourse.
Should I write: Nearly ramming her,
A marching clothes hanger, because I saw
A dude with such wide, bulging shoulders that
His smallish, crew cut head seemed like
A clothes hanger hook, or rather a
Question mark, caesura, meaty blip or
Minor speed bump on said shoulders?
Later, at another Penn Station:
Slim, pretty, white woman, squinting, “Can I
Tell you something? I’m pretty nervous, but
You look like my friend, George.” “No, I don’t.”
“Here goes, I just got into town this morning,
And I lost my purse, I…” “Sorry,” I chortled
Then turned away, interrupting her spiel. Girl
In a cotton dress did staggering pirouettes for daddy;
A family of long striding legs; a regressive punk; a
“Full-bodied” tattooed mom snapped a bronze angel.
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I guess my point was, perhaps those who gave them money just decided to, even if they thought they were being cheated. Perhaps they figured that the money they gave them might help them in some way, at least to live in this screwed up society.
Perhaps they are not really dorks...
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