Disrepute

You know, one of the things our Almost Friend John hated most about people? Their blandness. He suggested one night that the reason why they fell prey to so many silly scams was that they lived boring lives. They had no experience on the wild side. Now, you’ll say, “Well, that’s just his opinion!” But through a life of, hmmm, errr, crime, he’d earned the right to that opinion.

The normal mark had supreme confidence in their ability to avoid all the pitfalls of life. But they’d pretty much lived milk toast lives. Then someone like John came along. He assured them that he could turn their ten dollars into twenty. Then he put them into a “guaranteed” money earner. He’d pay them the twenty a week later, and then ratchet them up on the proceeds from other “fish.” Before a month was out, they were pulling thousands out of their savings. It was a classical Ponzi scheme. But he’s flim-flamming it all around and calling it something like an “indemnified fiduciary recontribution fund, and they bite. It was a totally artificial cover for a Ponzi. But he’d get them so confused they’d just pass over the cash.

I think he’d be overjoyed with the rackets that are out there today. I mean, just think, suck people in with just a text message!

He liked me and Bill and me, however. He’d say to us, “You guys have been around the block. You can be scammed, but it would take too much work. Why bother when there are so many gullible marks available? Why waste the time?”

The Business Plan

This makes me think of an idea for a business. We’d take the average bland, innocent noob, teach them how to walk and talk like they were from someplace like Southie, Washington Heights, the South Side, or the East End. No more walking on the flats of their shoes. We’d put them through the entire walk on your toes, with just a bit of swag routine. Teach the glimmer in the eye, and how to easily flick out a folder like a pro. Then we’d turn them loose with a shark who’d teach them the ropes of reading internet, phone, and mail scams. Oh, they couldn’t really pass against a pro, but we’d wipe that surprised ” who me” off their face. Replace it with a bit of a knowing sneer, steely glaze, and attitude that’d scare off the run-of-the-mill operator.

By the time we taught them the chapter and verse, liturgy and rituals of the scam artist, they’d be ready for the final exam: create a scam. Our panel of experts would grade it, and if you got a passing mark (oops, I mean grade), you’d get your diploma.

This is just a draft of an idea, but the central item is, as John loved to say, we’d ” do good, while doing well.”

Does anybody want to get in on the ground floor of this fantastic business idea?