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[info]amuchmoreexotic

A Much More Exotic

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Weird shit you see on Walworth Road #323
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[info]amuchmoreexotic
July 3rd, 0:02
When I got home, some woman was ringing my doorbell. She told me that she was from "number 242" and that she had been boiling the kettle to feed her son when the electricity meter ran out. She wanted to borrow £6 from me to feed the meter, because her partner wouldn't be back until 4 in the morning and her son was screaming.

I pointed out that there were cash machines just down the road, and she said that she didn't have access to her partner's account.

I felt really bad about lying and telling her I had no cash available, because I wasn't entirely sure if she was conning me or not.



Thinking about it, it was obviously a lie - if she was feeding an infant (which is presumably the implication of the detail that she needs to "boil the kettle" - to make milk from infant formula), then where was he? Unattended in a dark house? And who doesn't have a bank account of their own, or a joint account, or a credit card? And why did it have to be £6 rather than £2?

What made it particularly plausible was that she'd been ringing my doorbell just as I walked up. It seemed unlikely that she'd have timed it so perfectly. Of course, she'd been ringing the bell hoping to con whoever answered, and it was just coincidence that I'd showed up then.

Because she was middle class and well-spoken, I was biased towards believing her, and it was only my general acquired London instinct to ignore sob stories that led me to make the right decision.

Of course, if one of my neighbours really does find themselves in a pickle, there's a danger I won't believe them, especially with plausible con people like that around.

I wish I had asked her to take me to her home and introduce me to her son. Actually, I wish I had told her to wait while I got some cash, then called the police. Actually, I wish I had just kicked her in the cunt. What an awful person.
( 28 comments — Leave a comment )
God, we get a lot of those round here. It really pisses me off. They're always emotional and talk quickly so you don't have time to think about the flaws and feel bad questioning them (got conned once or twice, yeah, sap that I am) and it's usually some story about having missed their train/husband in accident need to get to hospital/late for interview or something. They always claim to be a neighbour, "you've probably met my husband before", etc. The most recent started off with the bullshit about broken down car etc, needing to get to v important meeting, had no way of getting there, no cash card etc, could I lend her some cash for cab if she left something to prove she'd be back later to pay it back? was going on and on until I interrupted with "if you're after money I don't have any" - she totally changed her story to being lost and looking for train station, looking a bit peeved.

Immediately afterwards wished I'd said "haven't got any cash on me I'm afraid, but my boyfriend's a policeman, he's at the station round the corner, he'll have some, I'll give him a ring and you can pop round and pick it up". Am totally trying that next time.
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Hello Charley. You're up late! How's tricks? You missed a corking NRF gig you know. We shat all over the other bands. Not literally.
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Hello David. I'm always up late! I rarely get to bed before 2 or 3 these days. I'm glad you shat (not literally) over the other bands. Pictures looked fab. Miss you! x


(Hello Ben, don't mind us, we're having a chat in the comments!)
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Yeah, the police station is just round the corner. I could have offered to walk her there to borrow some cash, since it was an emergency.

Actually, even better: because my front door can't be opened without the key, I should have invited her in, then asked her loads and loads of questions as we walked along the hall up the stairs ("how old is your son?" "what's his name?" "what's your partner's name and where is he now?"), then when we got to the kitchen I could have grabbed a knife and told her she was under citizen's arrest for attempting to obtain property by deception, and called the police. That would have been ace.
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Well, omit the knife grabbing (to avoid counter-claims of assault) and that would be AMAZING. But, I doubt she would have come in. As the first (perhaps only, can't be sure entirely) time I was scammed like this I tried to invite her in and she made some stupid excuse about why she couldn't and stayed out in the road and in retrospect that was when I realised I'd been had. I was on the dole at the time, too!
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Maybe if I'd said I have a £50 note I keep in a cupboard for emergencies, and I'd lend her it... The greed might have tempted her in.

If I didn't have the knife, she might have kicked my ass and taken my keys...
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i liked where you were going with the knife there, but more stabby stabby and less citizen's arrest plx.

oh, and obviously, GIF?
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I'm not sure stabbing someone who lied at you counts as self-defence...
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probably not. sigh.

overheard today - the reason why all the small greenwich shops have closed down is "the africans". i was hoping for an economic analysis playing to my dislike of big chain stores, but obviously the racist moon waxes full.
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It would have been nice to ask for the exact line of reasoning as to how they thought that happened... From now on when I meet a crazy/racist/criminal person, I am just going to ask lots of questions and take notes until they leave.
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This is always happening to me. I wish I could think of something sensible to say to them on the spot. Such as, "let me accompany you to the garage and you can show me exactly what kind of petrol you need for your car that's mysteriously run dry" or "there's a phone at my work, you can call the police from there, I'm sure they'll be able to help" etc. Instead I either pretend I have no money or, since I am a hopeless fibber, give them a load of cash to spend on drugs.
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I've got a catalogue of answers built up in my head, finally, but haven't been troubled since I did that. It's almost as if they know!
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I keep a colossal family holiday photo album handy, and just start talking them through it. Few people will tolerate 2 hours of vacation tales for six quid.
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I think the key is just to keep asking questions. You don't need to lie, you can just keep picking at their story and asking why they don't have any money or a credit card or any friends they can call to help them. Then, when you're absolutely sure that they're conning you, kick them in the genitals really hard.
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Why kick them? I'm not saying you shouldn't, mind you. I mean what is your motivation? Consider - a person who told you the truth wanted money, the liar wanted the same amount of money?

Is it the anger at being thought a patsy? Is it because they're breaking the social contract? Are they defecting on the Good Samaritan principle, where the rescuer volunteers and is not socially shamed into providing aid? Is it because she used a baby to shame you (ie, if you don't fork over the six, you must hate babies)?

I feel angry sometimes but I'm not sure why in these situations.
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I am a total soft touch on things like that, I would have given her a tenner and probably my door keys as well. When I first moved here I spent half my wages on buying homeless people Trampagne. I'm a little bit more cynical these days, but not much. Experience has taught me nothing!
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At least now when you're needing a small infant on the fly you know where to ask
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That's another approach: "I'll give you £6 to help your imaginary son if you let me fuck him."
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Ah, yeah. I met a woman who did a similar performance when I was walking from Kensington Olympia to Brook Green. Hers was that she had a four-year-old son and she needed money for the gas meter and social services were on the doorstep and she needed exactly £3.72. I was suspicious and didn’t have any change, but wished her luck.

The only thing was, she did it twice. The second time was several months later, but I remembered the story. Unfortunately, the second time, I was too much of a coward to do anything… I just said “We’ve met before,” and walked off.
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On the flipside of this, I once had my purse stolen, and the bank were so incompetent it took them 2 weeks to send me a debit card. I whittled through the last of my cash, and had about £5 left on my oyster, but one evening it got wiped by the shit rule about swiping in and out, as I had failed to spot an oyster machine out in walthamstow when I was visiting friends.

Got back pretty late to tottenham court road as I planned to get a night bus straight to my door, but boarding the bus (I am sure it was about 1:30am, I had waited for over an hour for the bloody thing) I found my oyster didn't have enough left on it. I counted out all the spare shrapnel in my change purse and I had just over £1.50, thank god. But the driver wouldn't take it - he said I had to use the machine. I got off the bus, and the machine was broken. I was so worried and scared of being stranded and some shitbag came up and offered me his ticket, and I dumped the change in his hands and took it without thinking. The bus driver saw, and refused to let me on, and that was the last of all my cash int he world. The ticket wasn't even valid when I looked at it.

So I rang a few people I knew with cars to see if they could help but no one was in town. At this point I started sobbing a bit as I was worried and embarrassed and didn't know what to do. I was told by friends to ask random strangers for money, but couldn't muster the courage as they would just think I was scamming. Shortly, A kind young man next to me asked if I was ok, and I explained what had happened unintelligibly, and he gave me a £2 coin. I was so shocked and amazed by this friendly human behaviour that I cried all the way home on the bus because I couldn't quite beleive that anyone would do that - he ddn't even think twice or ask any questions. So there you go.
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Difference is, I presume, you didn't ask for the money?

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Oh no I didn't. But it shows how scummy the fakers ar, as it stopped me from feeling I was able to ask for help.
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I would probably only give money to people who didn't ask.
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But how would you know! Crying people are ignored late at night as a rule.
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When I were a young, impressionable freshman in London, I forked over £20 to a lady who claimed she needed it to get home. I phoned up the number she gave and the man on the other end told me I had fallen for a confidence trick. I was not amused.

I then saw the lady trying the scam on someone else a few months later. I bounded up to her and said, 'hey, Linda! What's up! Did you get home after I gave you all that money', etc. She was suitably embarassed.

Nowadays, I typically give beggars cigarettes.
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A woman tried it on with me at Clapham Junction after money cause her husband had beaten her up. She had cunningly smeared some fake blood on her hand to fake the injury, I took her hand checked it over, infomed her there was no actually injury under the blood and that she should get stuffed.
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£6 rather than £2 gives it away, definitely

[info]bec_87rb

2009-07-28 06:40 pm (UTC)

I wish I had asked her to take me to her home and introduce me to her son.

I hear you.

When accosted by the beggar (crack heads or meth smokers) with a tale that involves me giving them any serious money, I listen sympathetically and give them whatever I think their performance deserved. After all, begging is performance art.

The problem is that crack heads need better writers. It's like there's a school for begging where they train junkies with the same crummy script. Why should I pay more than 50 cents to see a performance, no matter how heart-rending, of the same damn story?

That's why I like giving to drunks. They don't give me a line, they just ask for change.
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( 28 comments — Leave a comment )
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