Read Online Giving Up by Mike Steeves - Free Book Online Page B

sensed that something was off. He didn’t believe me, but since I didn’t refuse him outright he couldn’t plead his case any further, so he tried to steer the conversation towards innocuous bullshit about where I was from, since he assumed (correctly) that I wasn’t from around here. I answered his questions as if I was taking an exam, which is to say that I answered immediately, without thinking about what I was saying, because all I was thinking about was how I was going to get away from this guy. ‘I’m not going to go through with this,’ I thought, ‘Even though I said I would there is no way that I’m going to hand over four hundred bucks to this guy. There’s still time for me to do something before we get to the bank machine. I can think of some excuse to get me out of this mess.’ So even as I was telling this stranger about my childhood I was frantically searching for a reason for why I wouldn’t be able to give him four hundred dollars without, at the same time, revealing that the reason I couldn’t deposit the money order was because I didn’t believe a word of what he’d said. ‘Because that’s what you’re doing,’ I said to myself, ‘you are giving this guy four hundred dollars out of your own pocket, and making a fraudulent deposit, which no doubt won’t go over very well with the bank. There is no way that money order is for real.’ But I couldn’t come up with anything, so I kept walking and talking and thinking and at no point did it occur to me that I could simply turn to this guy and say, ‘I don’t believe a word coming out of your mouth, and even though you’re obviously a handsome and intelligent man in your early thirties and no doubt could have your pick from all sorts of gainful employment, it’s pretty clear that you are trying to con me out of my own hard-earned money.’ And the reason I never thought to say this to him wasn’t because I was afraid that if I confronted him he’d freak out and kick my ass – I’m a coward, but I’m also foolishly, resplendently proud – it was because I was embarrassed for him. Up until I had agreed to cash the money order, there had been a glimmer of truth, however faint, to his bullshit story, and even though I shouldn’t have given it any credence, it was impossible to completely satisfy my doubt so long as he maintained the pretense that he was telling me the truth, and even if he’d come on a little strong, and the desperate tone of his voice suggested that this wasn’t the first time he’d been this hard up, his act was somehow convincing. But the moment I agreed to his bogus proposal he was so stunned and full of joy over his dumb luck (i.e. me) that he definitively put to rest even the dimmest possibility that he was telling me the truth, and I could see with agonizing clarity just how fucking stupid I was being. And I was also struck by how pathetic he was. This was my first encounter with a real con man, and instead of the narcissistic calm I’d come to expect from all the crap I watch on TV, he turned out to be a rather ordinary alcoholic, and also an addict (of what, I’m sure I don’t know, but something hard) and he was obviously in a chaotic state of total despair. He’d been reduced to cheating naive strangers out of what little money they have. It’s shameful to go around conning people like me out of their wages, or inheritance, or stock options, or whatever, and while there may be a few people out there who are actually comfortable with this sort of thing and can hold their heads high and never give a thought to the degradation and corruption of their soul, I’m willing to bet that most people would rather work, even if the work wasn’t all that great, maybe even if it was downright shitty, because there is something about ripping people off – even when they can