I live in a rural area far, far away from any big cities. I have never been approached on the street for money by someone that I didn’t know by name. I’ve seen 3 homeless people in my entire life – they were all holding signs that said, “Will work for food.” I bought them something to eat and I didn’t get any dirty looks – they were extremely gracious. This is one of the many reasons I couldn’t and never will live in the city – too much deception (crime, etc., etc.). I’m way too trusting, also. I’d be either broke or murdered within a week. Bleh, who needs cities anyways? 
Things that are probably a scam:
The woefully misplaced inner city kid in a lilly white neighborhood shopping center selling candy bars for some youth group or church thing outside a supermarket store. The candy is usually stale and though it has some offical fundraiser info in the wrapper, can be easily purchased by any group. ( I don’t have a cite for this, but I read it in the paper, same thing for the next one.)
The people with the buckets at intersections collecting change for Women in Abusive Situations or Won’t Someone Think of the Children( whatever) are 99% a scam. Yeah, they are well dressed and Bless you, but a scam either way. I like to save my Canadian Change or Chucky Cheese tokens for these people. 
If I ever encounter first hand ( It’s always been my friends who get marked. ) a conman, I plan to say, " Oh, how awful for you. Unfortunately, I don’t have any cash. Do you accept Paypal?"
I stopped once at a gas station to fill up in north Florida. A guy approached me, saying he had a job interview in Miami in two hours and he was out of gas and could I give him a few bucks. He showed me his ID and his painter’s union card. I told him I had no money and he thanked me and walked away.
Either this guy was a con artist, or had no idea Miami is a six hour drive from where I was.
I always feel a tiny bit guilty about turning people away. There’s always that slim possibility that someone truly needs help, right?
I was approached by a couple of neighborhood kids (7 or 8 years old) who said they were selling cookies for the Girl Scouts. “How much?” I asked. “Fifty cents,” the replied. I agreed to a purchase, and the kids ran home, then returned with three Oreos in a baggy.
Of course I don’t condone lying, stealing and grifting in children, but it was kind of cute, so I let it go. I did not eat the cookies – og only knows where their grubby little hands had been.
I have a sign I use to identify myself when meeting Dopers in public places. It says, “Will debate for food.” I haven’t ever gotten offers of money, but several folks wanted to discuss my need for more appropriate self help skills.
I ask if they have any food on them.
The answer is always a rather haughty “No.”
“So,” I answer, “You want a freebie, on the subject of whether I am pulling my weight in the world, huh?”
The looks are worth all the money I never get for food.
Tris
The Moral Majority, and Fleet’s Enemas both come from Lynchburg VA. It’s a fact, not an opinion.
We have a pair of kids who work the subway line I ride. They’ve been doing it for a couple of years now, selling candy to “Raise money for the YMCA basketball team.” Uhuh. No ID, no receipts, just a big ol’ wholesale box of M&Ms. I think they make pretty good money off it but I hope they’re going to school so they can get a good honest sales job when they grow up 
It’s such a transparent scam that I don’t really have the heart to be mad at them.
Whoops, sorry, scamfans…haven’t paid a visit to MPSIMS in a few days (and frankly I’m surprised some other wiseacre didn’t pop in to explain this one).
So you approach your mark and ask for assistance finding an address – in a thick Hungarian accent – saying you have this enormous amount of money you need to deliver to a guy there. The mark’s eyes pop when you produce a huge bankroll (a C-note wrapped around a wad of ones). Hint that you’ll be EXTREMELY GRATEFUL if he helps you.
While the mark is rubbing his palms and looking for his Hagstrom’s, your confederate walks up and asks what’s going on. He tells you you shouldn’t be carrying so much money in your pockets here in the Big Bad City. “I can’t stick around to help you, but let me show you what you should do to avoid grifters and brigands…put your dough in this big envelope – hey, buddy, if you’re going to help him, better let me have YOUR wallet, too, to keep it safe – and shove it down the front of your trousers like THIS. See? Here’s your envelope back, so long.”
Your buddy has tucked the envelope with the phoney bankroll and the mark’s wallet down the front of his pants, but removed a dummy envelope stuffed with Ivory soap wrappers. He heads off to your criminal headquarters while you ditch the mark (“Here, hold all da money vhile I go und powder mein nose.”), meet up with your pal, and divide the spoils.
You should be able to pull this one off four or five times a day, in different parts of town.
Yeah…I live in the city and I have seen them all.
At the Bar - Businessman lent his car to his son. Wallet in car. Needs money for train. This guy was working the bars in the south loop area. I am always at the bar, so I have seen this guy. I have actually had to tell bartenders to not give this guy money.
At Work – Well dressed man stands in front of someone else’s car that is double parked with flashers on. Stops people on street asking for gas money. Does this until car owner comes back and drives off. He then moves to the next car he finds. This guy worked the State and Oak Street area for about 5 years. I have seen this guy ask the actual car owner.
2 guy in a van selling speakers/TVs/Camcorders etc. If you ever want to buy a box of rocks, you can find them all over downtown.
I did once give 10 to a guy who never sent it back. So now I explain that he ruined it for the rest of the desperate people.
I see multiple beggars ever day. Because I feel bad for the “real” desperate folks, I now have my very own “homeless guy”. He has been at the 7/11 buy work for about 8 years now. I can honestly tell beggars that I have already got one. While traveling I tell beggars that I’m saving for my homeless guy back home.
Here are the rules.
- You can’t ask me for something every time you see me.
- You have to bless me if I give you money or cigarettes.
- You have to chitchat with me even when I am not giving you money.
- I will give you a buck, when I feel like it.
I use this guy to make sure I will go to heaven some day. He makes maybe 20 to 40 a year off me, but I can sleep at night.
The girl who managed the building across the way once tried to hire the beggar from in front of the grocery store. He worked half a day and told her that he made more money at less effort begging. Lazy bum.
Campion - Street Wise is the name of the homeless newspaper in Chicago.
In “The Sting” tough guy shows how to hid money in underwear so it won’t be found if you are robbed. Here give me your money…you put it in a handkerchief like this…and stick it in your pants like this…(switch hankies while in pants)…here your hanky back now stick it in your shorts.
Band name! (“And now, fresh from Nepal, where they opened for the Rolling Stones and Dolly Parton, please welcome Yak-Choking Wad of Cash!!!”)
I remember back when I first started traveling for business. I was 20, and couldn’t get a credit card in my own name. The company gave me a company American Express card. My boss called me at home one evening and asked me to catch a flight first thing the next morning to Boston. I had virtually no cash, and there were no ATMs back then. I packed and got on the plane.
When I arrived in Boston, I went up to the first cab in line and asked if he accepted American Express. He said, “Sure, get in.” A half-hour later, I told him I was really pleased that he took credit cards. He said, “Credit card? I thought you meant American Express Traveler’s Checks!” I explained my problem, and he said he’d go ahead and take me the rest of the way to Bedford and I could mail him the money. It was a $50 ride, and I mailed him $100 as soon as I got home with a note thanking him and telling him the other $50 was to cover the next guy who stiffed him.
When I was in high school and as a cashier worked in a grocery store, we were warned about “gypsies.”* Apparently they would come up with a $20 and ask for change out of the register, and I didn’t quite understand how they did it, but they would keep switching back and forth until they walked away with about $50.
I never got stung, and I hope someone can explain how the scam works.
*Yes, I know gypsies is not a politically correct term. But that’s how they were referred to back then. I mean no offense.
I’m a huge guy, and can be extremely intimidating even when I’m not trying. I’d always been tempted to respond angrily to obnoxious beggars. I tried it just once, and while the results were impressive, I didn’t feel so good about it later.
I had just started working at my current position in downtown Seattle. When I’m not on the road, I’m not with clients, so I can be pretty casual at work – jeans and a nice shirt. I wear my leather biker’s jacket when it’s chilly or cold.
So this one morning I’m walking across the Wells Fargo building plaza, when a particularly scruffy looking guy approaches me off the bench he’s been warming. I can see he’s got several bags and suitcases of stuff parked there. I assume he’s homeless. He asks me if I can spare a few bucks for bus fare.
Now, bus rides downtown are FREE during the day, and he’s way far from the Greyhound depot, and several blocks from either of the bus tunnels that would take him out of the area requiring actual bus fare. Normally I’d just say no, and walk on. I can do this completely guilt free, because I’m on the board of directors of the organization which feeds these guys – I give more than my share, and I guarantee this asshole’s belly has been filled as a direct result of my efforts plenty of times.
His approach, getting off the bench and getting right into my face is actually kind of startling, and I realize I can’t just ignore him. So this time I decide, purely on impulse, to get angry! I loom up to my full 6’4" height, put my arms slightly out to accentuate my 340 lb. frame, and roar “NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” while snarling and looking daggers at him.
He stumbles back, falls over his stuff, and hits the concrete with his head pretty hard. As I walk away, he looks after me, fearfully. The look of panic and desperation on his face was really pitiful, and didn’t uplift me in any way. I realize that his life is probably pretty stressful and dangerous enough without me pulling shit on him. He could easily have been badly hurt. I felt pretty terrible, actually.
I’ve seen him only once since then, from a distance, so I don’t know if the experience affected his willingness to ask complete strangers for money. I’d bet that he doesn’t approach anyone my size, though, or at least does so more timidly. There’s a good chance I’ll eventually run into him again face-to-face, maybe on the street, maybe in the serving line of Operation Sack Lunch. I’ve decided to ignore him, unless he asks for money. Then I’ll break my own rules, and give. Generously.
I don’t like to give money to beggars, because I can’t help but think that most will just go off and buy beer with it. I especially hate the ones with no story, no “act”, and no effort. Just standing there, looking bored, holding a hand out? Not going to cut it.
But I have bought food for some people who said they were hungry, and this winter I bought mittens for a man sitting out on the sidewalk outside of a downtown department store in -30C weather. He had his hands in his pockets, and when he held one out to ask me for change, I said no… but then I felt sad at how red and raw the hand was, and I bought a fluffy pair of mittens in the store. When I gave them to him on my way out he was a bit stunned, but he put them on and smiled at me and I felt like I’d done the right thing.
But then there’s the guy who asked my sister for money for food as she was leaving a Subway restaurant. She took a fresh, warm 6" sub from the take-out bag and gave it to him with a smile. He opened it, and after yelling “who the F-- puts pickles with chicken?”, threw it on the sidewalk.
Well, she already had the dress…
I look like an easy mark (small, female and usually smiling sort of vaguely), so I get approached all the time. Unfortunately for most beggers, I’m not as dumb as I look. I grew up in the city and learned to identify the usual suspects pretty quickly. But not too long ago, I took my suburban-grown teenage daughter and two of her girl friends and her boyfriend to a concert in Chicago, and jeeze, talk about marks! All four of 'em walking down the street with their faces turned up and mouths opened, like they’ve never seen tall buildings before. Every beggar on the street was rubbing his hands together in anticipation. We were approached no less than five times between the parking garage and the concert venue. At one point I realized we were missing the boyfriend, and found him listening a little too sympathetically to an “I just need busfare to get back to my Mom’s” story. I just snagged his collar and dragged him back into the fold. When we got home, he told his dad, “Mrs. M. says I’m not allowed to talk to homeless people anymore 'cuz I’m a sap.”
Right; right. I was just trying to figure out how, in this case, the con would get hold of the mark’s wallet. See, in The Sting, the mark put the con’s money in his own wallet right away, because he thought he’d be able to rip off the con! As Uke described it, I guess it’s just a matter of the confederate taking control before the mark has a chance to say, “Hey, waitaminut…”
Teen Years: Homecoming Queen
20s -> 62: Welfare Queen
Gypsies or not, they’re called ‘Quick Change Artists’. I was warned about them when I worked as a bank teller.
Although I’ve never encountered one or seen one operate. The scam works something like this: They ask for change for $20 bill, usually in specific denominations, a $10 and two $5’s. In the middle of you making change, say, once the $10 is on the counter, they’ll change their mind and ask for 10 $1’s instead of the $10 and so on. Or they’ll pull out another $10 and request change for that bill. They keep interrupting you before you can complete each request until you lose track of what money is theirs and what money is yours. If they’re good enough, you won’t even realize you’ve been taken until after they’ve left.
To defend against this scam, make sure your money and theirs isn’t on the counter at the same time, and always complete one request before starting on another.
One teller I worked with encountered a quick change artist. She immediately recognized what was happening and managed to confuse him. When the QCA left, my co-worker was the one that ended up with extra money.
Or tell them to 'op it before you call the law.
As for ‘stranded travellers’ I had a bit of fun with one who used to stand around the same corner on Commercial Drive (coffee district, sorta Disney bohemian) and try his routine on everybody who walked past.
When he approached me a third time in as many weeks, I thought I’d help him to remember my face, so he got an extended conversation instead of the usual dismissive wave.
“Excuse me, can you help me out? I need a few bucks for a bus ticket back to Edmonton, and my–”
“You’re going to Edmonton? You can ride with me. I’m going to Toronto.”
“Uh, a bus ticket would be cheaper than --”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’d be glad of the company. In fact, why don’t you come with me to Toronto. They’ve got jobs there.”
“Uh, I only–”
“Lotsa jobs in Tronna! Good jobs, too, not like here. Lawyerin’ and Doctorin’ jobs.”
“Really–”
“And we can go to Yonge Street! Yonge Street!”
[Guy says nothing, starts looking around like he’s actually considering moving from the corner that he’s been collecting donations from all damned summer.]
“Come on! Just let me stop at this ATM to get enough cash for the trip and we can go.”
[He’s interested again!] “Oh, you’re leaving right away?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Just get some cash and stock up on supplies and we’re out. We’ll need a lot of doughnuts and beef jerky for the trip, man, if we’re gonna survive.”
“Uh… yeah. I don’t have a lot of…”
“Don’t worry. You drive half the time, and we’ll be square. We’re gonna need a lot of crack, too.”
“What?”
“Crack, man. If we’re going to drive straight through, we’re going to run through a lot of rock. Do you know anyone?”
You know how you often hear about a sequence of emotions registering briefly on someone’s face? This is the only time I’ve ever actually seen it outside of a movie triple-take. I don’t remember the exact order, but confusion, hope, fear, and joy all made distinct appearances in the moment before he finally realized that I was taking the piss, when he scowled, turned on his heel, and walked off in search of a more suitable mark, without saying another word.
“Broke, Homeless, Looking for Work” guy was at his usual off ramp yesterday and today. Today, he was joined by a friend, apparently. Just as I turned left off the off ramp there was another guy holiding a sign informing me “Jesus “Hearts” U.” He had a shopping cart full of stuff too. This is turning into a fun on ramp. I can’t wait to see if “Jesus “Hearts” U” Guy becomes a regular now. I wonder just how two broke, homeless people can afford to buy the poster board and markers to make the posters?
I don’t understand; the scam is that a third party tells you, to be safe, you should stuff your wallet into the trousers of a complete strange?
I know people are gullible and the “gimme $20 for a desperate situation” often works. But, “Stuff your wallet into the pants of a strange foreigner?” No, sorry, I don’t buy that would work.