‘Tis The Season…To Scam!
I hate it when I'm being played.
I hate it because someone thinks I'm gullible. I hate it because someone is spending the gifts God gave them to steal from others instead of help others. If somebody needs help, and I'm in a position to help--I will help. I think most of us are that way. Problem is--we sometimes get f***ed over.
I'm pumping gas at the Oasis on my way to Chicago for Thanksgiving weekend when a woman drives up in a van (silver ford Windstar if you're out looking to not be scammed) and asks if I can help her? Of course I will. Even after I say yes, she is so glued to her story of woe that she can't veer off topic. She tells me how she was happy to see my Iowa plate, because she's from Davenport and she is essentially stranded, due to bad luck and mean gas station owners that won't take a check from her. I mention her Illinois license plate and she responds with, "Well, I just moved there."
"Where a bouts," I ask, innocently enough. She tells me she lives by the "Riverboat.'
Okay, fine. Let's get back to her story. Her daughter needed luggage at O'hare airport so she ran up there, and is now out of gas, the gas station won't take a check, and can she borrow a few bucks for gas? She also goes out of her way to tell me there's no reason for me to be scared, she's not a, "Mean, old black lady." However, in hindsight, since she is scamming me--doesn't that make her mean? Old and black there were no doubt. But I tell her I'm happy to help her out, and there's no need to replay me (she offered to write me a check, probably on the account of whomever she stole the checkbook from.)
As I am filling up her tank with gas, I ask her if she has any plans for Thanksgiving? She doesn't offer up any details, and thankfully the pumps clicks off at 28.00. The scam is almost over. She tells me, "God bless you," to which I reply, "God has already blessed me--I hope he gives you what you seek." And, I guess, technically, He did.