Friday, January 24, 2014

The Wonder of Doing Unto Others

I took part in a con game last night. I say "took part in" because on some level I was a willing participant. Last night I entered into a young man's game as a willing mark. I've been hit on before; I once gave a ride and $100 to a man who promised to pay me back. I suspected I would never hear from him again. I was right on two counts: I was right in thinking I was not going to see my money, and I was right to give it to him. Allow me to explain.

Last night, from the moment the young man approached my wife as we returned to our car in the Meijer parking lot, I suspected a scam. At first I thought he was trying to steal a cell phone, as he asked to borrow one to make an urgent call to his mother. My wife, an eternal pessimist in these things, was suspicious of his true motives from the beginning and refused to offer her phone. Because I was a few paces behind her, he turned his plea to me when I approached. My wife, happy to be rescued, suggested that I may be willing to let him use my phone.

I will interject at this point that I hold a Concealed Pistol License (CPL aka CCW) and often go about in public armed with a .38 caliber snub nose revolver. As I handed the young man my phone, I played a scene in my head where he dashed away and I yelled, "Stop. I have a gun and I will use it," after which I fired a shot in the air. No! I would not risk killing a man over a cell phone; I might try frightening him into submission though.

As it was, no gun play was necessary. The young man dialed his "mother" and rewove for her the story he had played on my wife and I. He was out of gas and needed her to run down from Whitehall with some cash so he could buy the fuel needed to get to work in Grand Haven. Already there were so many implausibilities in the con that I was as suspicious as my careful wife. How had he run out of gas? The gas gauge was broken and "Joe" had borrowed the car without refueling. How would gas money help if he was stranded in the Meijer parking lot? A benevolent stranger had previously agreed to run down the street to his apartment and get a gas can the young man could use. Would he like to wait for the gas can in my warm car (the wind chill was below zero last night)? No, he did not want to inconvenience us any more than he already had.

His story got more and more intricate as I offered several alternatives which involved getting him gas but not giving him money. By the time four or five minutes and as many offers and refusals had passed, I was convinced it was a con. Grifters, pan-handlers, scam artists often work large parking lots with stories about desperate need for gas money. Sometimes there is a sick baby in the car; this time it was an amputee "step-father." To check what I could of his story, I drove across the lot to the van where a man was behind the wheel and a handicapped plate adorned the rear bumper. The young man offered to let me look into the van to verify the amputation. I declined.

By this time, my wife was getting impatient with me. We had both determined with at least 90% certainty that we were marks in a simple con. I pulled out my wallet to assure myself that I had the $10 I thought I did and leaned over to explain my actions to my wife. When the young man saw the wallet, he offered to leave me his driver's license as collateral if I wished. I wish now I had accepted; it would be interesting to see what would follow. As it is, I gave him the $10, for which he thanked me profusely, offered God's blessing on me, and headed straight into Meijer, for what I don't know. (My first thought was whiskey for the "step-father.")

After I gave him the money, I asked my wife if she would be willing to invest a few more minutes to see if our suspicions were correct. She assented. We made tracks toward the parking lot exit but turned back at some distance to watch the handicap van. We watched the young man speak to another patron/mark just a moment after we re-parked, after which he got into the van and the lights came on as it backed out of the spot where it had supposedly been stranded. Confirmation. Or perhaps it had not been out of gas after all; perhaps it had other problems that caused it not to start. Right. Then there's the one about the bridge for sale in Brooklyn.

I thought about following the van to its destination just out of curiosity, but we had already spent enough time on the escapade that I missed O'Reilly. O'well. My point in recounting this affair is to repeat the words I said to my wife after we had decided we were party to a con game. "I would rather be taken advantage of than to miss the opportunity to help someone who really needs it." If that makes me a sucker, then so be it. In a different context, Paul said there were times when it is appropriate to become fools for Christ. If I was fooled last night, I pray I was a fool for Christ. The world says I got scammed; I say I let some of God's resources flow from me to another sinner in need of grace.

My only regret after last night is that I did not make my motives more clear to the young man. In the $100 episode I alluded to, the man rode with me for several hours, and I had a chance to share my faith with him and clearly explain that any help he received was coming not from me, but from a God who loves sinners. I was not so clear last night. In any case, there is one "family" of grifters who knows they got $10 from a mark who was onto their game but gave it anyway. I hope that really makes them wonder.

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