BART tale #3
This dude walking in front of me had a nice arse. I was checking it out when suddenly he stopped and turned around.
"Do you have 90 cents I can borrow to get on the BART?" he asked me. Startled that the arse had a talking side and was asking me for money, I just stared for a moment.
"Um," I said, trying to decide if he was legit or just panhandling for cigarette money. "Actually, I don't have any change." I was relieved that it was the truth, because I'm a really bad liar.
"Well, do you have a dollar, then? That would help," he said. Dammit.
"Um," I stalled. Although he had a scruffy beard, he didn't seem like a bum trying to con me out of my bus money. Usually they have more elaborate stories, like the stinky lady with three teeth who approached me on Irving Street. I left my wallet in my car and locked myself out. I'm so embarrased. I just need $3 for the BART. But today it was the principle of the situation. Just because someone doesn't smell and wear rags doesn't mean he's not trying to rip you off. A few weeks earlier a woman had asked me for BART money in front of the Rockridge station. Rockridge, of course, is a little piece of Marin County tucked in north Oakland, and this woman was classic Marin County. Casual but sharply dressed, middle-aged but still thin and fit. Instinctively, I shook my head. She was easy to turn down; I'd seen her coming from far away. "Sorry," I lied with a smile. "I don't have any money." She smiled apologetically. "Oh, no problem," she said, raising both palms in front of her chest to show it was okay. "I totally understand." Damn, I really could have helped her out with some change, but instead I was a selfish turd who suspected her of being a bum dressed as a Marin housewife.
"Um," I said to the dude with the arse. I was such a pushover. "Sure."
"Thank you so much!" he gushed as I reluctantly handed him a dollar. "I've been asking people for the last hour and no one would give me any money."
"No problem," I said, avoiding eye contact so that he wouldn't see what a total chump he was dealing with.
"If I see you again I'll pay you back," he said gratefully. Liar, I thought.I'm going to call you on it, too, you con. I'm going to say, whatever, you liar. You're just a con. I'm going to say it right now.
"Okay," I smiled politely, hating myself for letting myself be caught off guard, and not being able to say no to this con who was now making off with my dollar. As we walked towards the exit to Market Street, he veered off to the BART ticket machines. I heard my dollar bill being sucked into the machine.
"Do you have 90 cents I can borrow to get on the BART?" he asked me. Startled that the arse had a talking side and was asking me for money, I just stared for a moment.
"Um," I said, trying to decide if he was legit or just panhandling for cigarette money. "Actually, I don't have any change." I was relieved that it was the truth, because I'm a really bad liar.
"Well, do you have a dollar, then? That would help," he said. Dammit.
"Um," I stalled. Although he had a scruffy beard, he didn't seem like a bum trying to con me out of my bus money. Usually they have more elaborate stories, like the stinky lady with three teeth who approached me on Irving Street. I left my wallet in my car and locked myself out. I'm so embarrased. I just need $3 for the BART. But today it was the principle of the situation. Just because someone doesn't smell and wear rags doesn't mean he's not trying to rip you off. A few weeks earlier a woman had asked me for BART money in front of the Rockridge station. Rockridge, of course, is a little piece of Marin County tucked in north Oakland, and this woman was classic Marin County. Casual but sharply dressed, middle-aged but still thin and fit. Instinctively, I shook my head. She was easy to turn down; I'd seen her coming from far away. "Sorry," I lied with a smile. "I don't have any money." She smiled apologetically. "Oh, no problem," she said, raising both palms in front of her chest to show it was okay. "I totally understand." Damn, I really could have helped her out with some change, but instead I was a selfish turd who suspected her of being a bum dressed as a Marin housewife.
"Um," I said to the dude with the arse. I was such a pushover. "Sure."
"Thank you so much!" he gushed as I reluctantly handed him a dollar. "I've been asking people for the last hour and no one would give me any money."
"No problem," I said, avoiding eye contact so that he wouldn't see what a total chump he was dealing with.
"If I see you again I'll pay you back," he said gratefully. Liar, I thought.I'm going to call you on it, too, you con. I'm going to say, whatever, you liar. You're just a con. I'm going to say it right now.
"Okay," I smiled politely, hating myself for letting myself be caught off guard, and not being able to say no to this con who was now making off with my dollar. As we walked towards the exit to Market Street, he veered off to the BART ticket machines. I heard my dollar bill being sucked into the machine.
posted by Justina at 7:41 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home