The Scam Collector

Hi, Elaine Viets here. Let me introduce you to Thomas Kaufman, an Emmy-winning director/cameraman who also writes mysteries.  His first book, DRINK THE TEA, won the Private Eye Writers of America/St Martin's Press Competition for Best First Novel.  His second book, STEAL THE SHOW, comes out this July.  You can see the rest of his blog tour here.

By Thomas Kaufman

I'm interested in scams. Sometimes I think there are as many ways to scam as there are people. Today I thought I'd write about two different scams – one in Africa, and one here in the US.

A few years ago I was in Ghana, shooting for a WGBH documentary called SCIENCE ODYSSEY. The producer, Larry Klein, and I had spent about ten days filming in Tamale (pronounced TAH-ma-lay), about 120 miles south of the border with Burkino Faso. Here's some clips from that shoot:

 

Ghana Journey from Thomas Kaufman on Vimeo.

Now our shoot was over and we were flying back home. It took eight hours to drive south on roads that looked like they'd been used for mortar practice. We finally got to Accra, the capitol city of Ghana. After a good night's sleep in a hotel, we had time to kill before our plane left. It was Sunday morning, and at a local market I picked up two Dashikis that had Kente cloth from a village where we'd filmed. I was walking back to the hotel with Larry, when a young man brushed past us.

Larry took another step, stopped, looked at his wrist, then asked me if he'd been wearing a watch when we left the hotel. Larry's wrist was bare, except for a tiny red dot in the center, just about where the metal prong of the watchstrap's buckle would be.

So what we had just witnessed, without knowing it, was a young man adept at stealing watches. When he brushed into Larry, he undid Larry's watchstrap so fast that the metal prong went into his skin. By the time Larry knew what had happened, the kid was long gone, along with Larry's watch.

Now, do you need to go to Africa to get scammed? Not if you live in Washington, DC.

It's a great place to live, a small southern town of 800,000 hard-working people that happens to have the federal government squatting on top of it. Kind of like the flying saucer that squats on a DC baseball field in DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL.

While that great movie had a lesson for all mankind, the only lesson I've found from living in DC is to watch your back. This place has its share of scam artists, and not all of them are members of Congress.

Last winter I'd finished an outdoors film shoot, so the producer and I went to a small place for lunch. We'd been in the freezing cold for hours, and my hands and feet felt numb. It was nice to get someplace warm. What came next was classic DC:

We pay the bill, and as we walk outside a man intercepts us.

"Hey, man, I'm driving that cab over there. Can you tell me how to get to New York Avenue and 7th?"

Was he serious? I took a look at this guy – African American, about six feet, plaid shirt and jeans and green camo jacket. "It's over that way," I say, putting doubt in my voice. How could a DC cabdriver not know that?

"Thanks. You got a twenty for two tens?"

Okay, let's stop a moment. A twenty for two tens? This guy doesn't want to break a big bill into smaller ones – just the opposite. What was he up to?

"Sure," I say. I open my wallet, find a twenty, and he gives me two tens. We're done now, right?

Not quite. The man takes a step away, a big giant step, kind of a cartoon step, it's that exaggerated. Then he stops. He makes sure I see him stop. Then he says, "Hey. Wait a second. I gave you two tens, you gave me a one." He shows me the one in his hand.

It's the only bill there.

He had switched the bills when he took his cartoon step, palming the twenty and substituting the one. Not bad, except that I hadn't had a one in my wallet to hand him.

I take another look at this guy. His shirt is thin, the plaid colors worn away. His hands are hard and callused. They wouldn't get that way driving a cab.

And it's winter. DC doesn't get really bad winters, but as the temperature drops, there's a rise in homeless deaths due to hypothermia. Yes, we have homeless shelters in DC, but they can be dangerous places. I've known plenty of homeless people who'd rather take their chances sleeping outside on a heating grate, than risk the shelter.

Hence the scam – he gives up two tens, plus a dollar, and gets two twenties back, netting nineteen dollars. For that much, he can get a meal, and find a warm place to hole up and sleep for two or three days.

I hand him a second twenty. He gives me the dollar. Now we're done. I look him in the eye, I want to tell him it's okay. But to do that means I've seen through it, that his scam sucks (and it really does). Instead, I nod at him. He nods back and heads off to his imaginary cab. I say goodbye to the producer and drive home, where my wife and kids are listening to music and playing a board game.

I'm nineteen dollars poorer, but I don't feel poor at all. Just the opposite.

How about you? Have you ever been scammed?