Ah…con artists.
Do you love them? I do.
So I’m standing on the Fullerton train platform yesterday, patiently awaiting the brown line to take me for my massage, listening to the new Rammstein album on my walkman…ALL WAS WELL WITH THE WORLD!!!
Two people wander up to me, a man and a woman. The woman is patting him sympathetically on the shoulder and he’s holding his completely unswollen jaw, lip, mouth with one hand.
Now I have pretty good peripheral vision, and even when I’m blaring music, I can hear what’s happening outside my walkman. I’m also naturally a little suspicious of people.
They were clearly giggling before approaching me.
The man says,
“OH man…can I borrow fifty cents to call my dentist? I’ve got an absessed tooth…oooohhhhh” He groans in agony. Honest to god, I don’t have a dime on me. I have a twenty dollar bill and my debit card.
“I don’t have any change.”
“Fifty cents, that’s all! I’ve got an absess!”
“I don’t have anything, sorry.”
The woman walks up real close to me and says,
“what’s the matter bitch, need change for one of your hundreds?”
Hey, you know what? If I had had fifty cents at that point I would have pushed them sideways up her nostrils and kicked her down the stairs. How fucking dare you? First of all, the last time I saw a hundred dollar bill was when my boss told me to go buy lunch. Secondly, asshammer, if I had a hundred dollar bill and YOU HAD CHANGE FOR IT…why do you need to bother me for fifty cents?
And finally, don’t call me bitch for not falling for your scam. When I didn’t give you my cash, your friend’s tooth immediately healed and you moved on to try to scam someone else.
Oh hey, and you know what else? I was sort of soured on the idea of giving out spare change BEFORE this incident.
Now I’m downright against it.
Bitch.
yours in christ,
jarbaby
