Tag Archives: Being hoodwinked

Genuine

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            Andrea loved walking the streets of New York City. The colors, the lights, the excited milling crowds enthralled her.

            She’d planned on a short, three-day stay, long enough to see some of the sights, but not too long to tax her budget. For months, Andrea researched things to do in the city, narrowing her list down to what she hoped was doable.

            A friend had told Andrea to get up early in the morning, join the line at the Thx booth in order to score reduced price tickets for Broadway plays. While she stood there, the air brisk and fog spewing out of everyone’s mouths, a light rain began to fall.

            Venders appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, lost-cost umbrellas being hawked.

            At first Andrea refused, but the longer she stood in the slow-moving line, the harder it rained. She chose a pink one, not her favorite color, but one that would stand out in the crowd.

            She was elated to get a ticket to one of the many shows she’d hoped to see, a spin-off of a romantic comedy she’d read years ago.

            That done, she spent the morning shopping for little gifts to bring home to her family and friends. A couple of keychains for Danny and Michelle, partners at work. Friendship bracelets for her cousin’s twin girls. A holographic image of the city’s skyline for her boss, to add the her collection displayed in the bookcase behind her desk.

            Laden with a variety of small, colorful bags, Andrea stepped into a pop-up Taco restaurant that smelled so delicious that she couldn’t pass it up.

            They sold only three varieties: shredded beef, diced grilled chicken, and a veggie combination that Andrea should have chosen, but didn’t. Not knowing how large the taco would be, she bought two: beef and chicken. Both were delicious.

            A glance at her watch told her she had enough time to get to her hotel, drop off her purchases, and get in line at the theater. Hurrying through the crowded streets, she was jostled repeatedly, but because she’d been warned, Andrea clutched everything close to her chest.

            One rid of her bags, she headed north on Broadway, mesmerized by the flashing, colorful, larger-than-life displays.

Just as she found the theater and got in line, a well-dressed man appeared on her right side.

“Are you interested in jewelry, mam?”

Andrea stared ahead, hoping to discourage him.

The line moved forward, just enough to leave a gap between her and the couple in front. The man filled that gap, a gap-toothed grin lighting up his face.

Andrea’s eyes looked him up and down, even though she tried not to. He was well-built, clean-shaven, dressed in clean jeans and a button-down collar shirt. His skin had a pleasant tan that was enhanced by bright yellow hair.

If she’d met him under different circumstances, she would have been interested in a first date. Maybe a second or third. Heck, she thought, perhaps even marriage!

Andrea knew he was a hustler, but was so intrigued by him that she actually looked at the bracelets he pulled out of a jacket pocket.

“Which do you like best?” he asked as he moved his arm back and forth, allowing them to glitter in the sun.

Andrea pinched her lips and shook her head. She knew better than to buy purloined goods, so when the line moved forward, she turned her eyes away.

“Do you like turquoise and silver?” He leaned forward, placing his head very close to hers.

Andrea smiled. Yes, she did, she wanted to say, but there’s no way it could be made of real stones and actual silver.

The man slid the bracelet off his arm and brought it closer to Andrea’s eyes. “I’ll sell it to you at a good price.” He beamed. “And, just for the heck of it,” he said as he reached into his coat pocket, “I’ll throw in the matching necklace for just five dollars more.”

She’d always wanted a turquoise and silver necklace and bracelet, but found them too expensive for her teacher’s salary. But, this pair was incredibly beautiful. The craftsmanship seemed refined, as if done by a silversmith working in a home studio.

Her heart pounded, telling her to touch it, just to see.

The line moved forward, much quicker this time. She was close to the door. The time to decide had arisen.

“Are the stones real?”

The man beamed.

Despite knowing better, Andrea bought them both. As she slid the bracelet onto her arm and placed the necklace inside her purse, she felt quite pleased with herself.

Over and over she told herself they were genuine materials. That she’d scored a bargain. That she’d never tell her friends that she’d fallen for a scam.

There was, after all, the possibility that they were real.

Hoodwinked

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            Neither my husband nor myself can sleep on planes, even on very long flights. When we arrived in Santiago recently, we weren’t thinking clearly. We’d prepaid a ride from the airport to our hotel, so all we were doing was getting luggage, then get out to where the ride would be. We failed to stop at a currency exchange, which turned out to be a huge mistake.

            As we walked past the line a drivers holding cards, we didn’t see one with our name. A nicely dressed man stood at the end, offering help. We both thought he looked somewhat official, so we handed him our confirmation paper. He claimed to have seen the driver, then went outside. Came back, reported that there was no driver. Then he called the number, we think. He spoke to someone, handed my husband the phone, who then was told that the driver had broken down on the freeway and we’d have to find alternate transportation.

            Of course, the nicely dressed man could do that! We’re stuck, right? So we agreed. He called someone. Next thing we’re being ushered out to the parking garage where the ride awaited.

            The car was an immaculate SUV with leather upholstery. The driver spoke no English, so the nicely dressed man rode with us.

            You’d think that by now we’d be a bit suspicious. Well, we were, but we needed to get to our hotel.

            Anyway, we took off down the highway. We have no idea if these guys are taking us to the hotel or out to a deserted place to kill us, but we’re stuck, zooming down the freeway.

            After about thirty minutes, the guy tells us they’re going to pull off the freeway to an ATM they know.

            It was a decrepit gas station in the middle of an extremely poor area. Homeless people were standing around. It didn’t feel safe.

            The driver got out a card-reading device and swiped one of our credit cards. It was declined. He swiped it several times, declined over and over. We don’t know why, but we’re both getting worried. Would these guys dump us here? Throw out our luggage and leave us stranded?

            Mike handed the guy his debit card. It was declined. Repeatedly. Then I made a huge mistake: I gave Mike my credit card!

            Fortunately I stayed in the car as the men took Mike to the ATM. All our cards were tried there as well, and all declined.

            The men conferred, decided to drive into Santiago to a major bank. At least it was in a good neighborhood! Again, all our cards failed.

            The me decided they’d take $40 US dollars. They dropped us off in the street in front of our hotel, not at the door, which was a bit of a walk.

            At least we got there safely!

            The hotel wanted a card as a deposit in case we drank the expensive water in the fridge. Our cards were all declined, as before. I tried calling the bank, but all I got was a prerecorded message in Spanish, which I couldn’t understand.

            The hotel clerk also called, got the same message, which was that our cards were declined.

            We needed money to get to the port the next day. Only Chilean pesos would do. Mike did have some cash, which we could exchange.

            After allowing us to check in, we walked several blocks to a shopping center that had an exchange. We got there, no problems, but no one that I approached at the mall spoke English! We kept wandering, from one floor to another, eventually stumbling into the exchange!

            No one there spoke English! Fortunately a nice customer offered to translate, so we ended up with enough pesos to pay for transport and to buy a little something to eat.

            McDonald’s was expensive! So all we got was four thumb-nail sized nuggets for me and a small cheeseburger for Mike.

            Back at the hotel, we arranged transport, but we had no money for dinner and no working credit card. I called our son Tim who is fluent in Spanish.

            He put together a three-way call to our bank. Our cards had been frozen due to suspicious activity. That was the good news.

            The bank gave us twenty minutes to get to an ATM and withdraw pesos. Tim somehow found an ATM around the corner from our hotel! The bank also agreed to keep my card active until we got home.

            What a relief! We had enough pesos to buy a little dinner and to get me a sweatshirt in Punto Arenas. We had credit to purchase excursions to see the penguins in the Falklands and to go to a ranch in Buenas Aires, which would also take us to the airport.

            After that experience, we now know to get money before leaving the airport. We know not to trust a nicely-dressed man at the end of the line, but to look for an actual taxi.

And we also know that our bank caught the attempts to steal our money!

We were hoodwinked, yes, but we survived to live to share our story.