She was tired at the end of her shopping at the craft store when a kindly jolly old irish man came up to her and peddled his story about being a lonely widower and “how about going for a cup of coffee.”
She wasn’t thinking clearly and figured it would be fine and didn’t really notice that his words of " my number isn’t listed and I’m not in the book." should have struck some kind of nerve. To save time, She gave him her business card that has her home address on it and he would call her later.
A week later, this past Saturday, he showed up at the door. She didn’t remember him but when he said he had been trying to call her and boy she must be busy, blah blah blah, it jogged her memory and like a stooge, she let him in, “Just for a glass of water.”
When she noticed the red two-door car parked infront of her house ( which is illegal) she commented, " You can’t park there, it’s illegal. You’ll have to park across the street…"
" Oh, that isn’t my car. It’s someone waiting for one of your neighbors." She believed him.
They went into the kitchen, she ended up giving him three glasses of water because he was so thirsty and started to prepare the coffee for him. The conversation was stilted. He realized the time, asked to use the bathroom, saw the living room and then hastily departed without much social conversation for a man who was so lonely and starving for attention.
When he left, he got into the very same red car that he said was not his, where a driver was waiting for him and drove off.
She called one neighbor to ask what to do. He said, “Call the cops.”
She called me to tell her tale, making me freeze in my footsteps, " Call the cops."
She calls another neighbor, and he concurs with the rest of us. “Call the cops.”
Mr. Ujest and I drove instantly down because of the panic in her voice that was hidden by the deep embarrassment. She was more worried about the Good Silver and such ( which are not really all that good anyways.) being stolen than for her very life. She was worried about being perceived as a Rich Widow, when she lives, which is possible in some points because she lives in a four bedroom home in a nice established subdivision, but on less thatn 17k a year. That’s below poverty levels for anyone. Trying to tell her that the most Valuable Thing inside the house was Her was ignored.
She assured me that this con man was never alone with her purse, laying open on the kitchen counter in its usual state, and he never got near it. I should have called her on this and had her check it while I was down there. It was when she was preparing for church on Sunday that she noticed that her $100 for the next two weeks, plus the $20 that she always kept hidden for emergency purposes, was missing. She felt like a fool. An idiot. And she had to go down to the police station to finish the Suspicious Person’s report that she filled out the day before with this new information. The police officer was everything that was kind and understanding. Until she discovered the money missing, she was sure we were all misreading the situation and there had to be some reason why he would be so ‘odd’ about his visit.
She has been a widow thirty years this coming Christmas and has had to endure hardships that no parent should ever witness; being told that your four natural born children have a heritidary degenerative muscular disease that will slowly suck their lives away as their body and spirit declines over a horridly long time period. She has faced this three horrored times. It is not any easier as the deaths happens. Watching someone that you love become nothing of what they use to be and never ever have the opportunity to become what they should have been. It becomes more painful. Yet, she has done it with dignity, grace and the Lady that I will never be.
You fucking conman.
You took from my 78 year old mother her peace of mind that her home is her haven. She has never once felt uneasy about coming home or being alone. Though she has massive amount of insecurities, this was not one of them. Until you picked your tired, aging pigeon to shit over.
How easy it must have been for you on Saturday, you felcher. She did all your cues, fell for every line.
You don’t know her life story or how the Fates have continously shat all over my mother for these past decades, and how she has never turned to drugs or liquor ( as 99% of the rest of the populace would in she shitstained shoes) and has never lost her faith and has a sense of humor above it all, but you asshole, she did save the glass you drank from, put it in a ziploc and gave it to the cops.
I don’t know what is more pathetic: a con-man who preys on the elderly or an aging con-man who have learned his lesson and straighted up. You are a patethic waist of life.
If you were scoping out her house for a future robbery, and any harm (accidental or malicous) befalls my mother, I.will.not.rest.until.justice.is.served. You.wanker.
If there is a hell, credents like yourself will have first accomodations there.
You don’t have to be elderly to be taken in.