Monday, November 21, 2005

Don't trust strangers

A strange man flagged me down on the corner of a street the other night on my way to home. I stopped to see what he needed

He gave me a nine yard story about locking his keys in his office, the police not cutting the padlock since there was not a fire related incident, and being stuck without money to get home. I don’t think he paused for a break. He was shivering a tad, wearing only a T shirt and cargo pants. He was good looking, had a sweet voice and dark eyes

“How much do you need?” I asked

“A twenty dollars” he said. I knew I didn’t have cash on me and I told him so. He quickly pointed me to the ATM across the street. Wow was he too smooth a criminal or had he just been repeating his speil and no one bit? “Please” he said, “Im cold”

Watching this in slow motion, every warning in my head screamed, ”Dewy, don’t do it” but something made me trust him. A softie with a caring heart that I am, thought to myself this guy is different, as we crossed the street towards the ATM.

I got the cash from the machine, and handed him a twenty dollar bill. “Could I have five more?”, he asked. Was I that gullible? At that point it was less about the cash and more abt the trust in our society.

“What’s your name” I asked

“Carlos Martin” he said

“What’s your number?” I asked. He told me. “and your address” he gave me the street name. I scribbled the info on the back of my ATM receipt and slipped it my purse. He asked me for a pen to write down my number and said he’d call me as soon as he got his spare keys from office and got home.

“God bless you”, Carlos said as we parted.

With all the bad going around the world, drunk drivers, suicide bombers, gun shots, soaring homeless counts, shoplifting, robbery – I’ll admit I was looking for some glimmer of hope for a better society, maybe it was I who was being tested. Would I help someone in need?

I walked home realizing I just handed over money to a complete stranger on a dark street in Manhattan. Yes, I thought this is what they warn you about when you come to the Big Apple, but to me it was a test, and I was hoping it’d pass.

I got home, sorted mail, made dinner all the while thinking about Carlos. Did he get the car sevice yet? did he find his spare keys? or was he at some bar telling his friends a story of how he conned a woman out of $25

Suddenly my cell phone rang. My heart thumped, Was it Carlos? Did he call to return my money?

No, it wasn’t him. He never called. He never came back, and what about my faith in a better society? Well, that’s not coming back either. But the real loser in this experience is the next person who asks me, because they’re probably going to really need the money.
Posted by Dewdrop :: 3:39 PM :: 27 Scribbles!

Scribble your mind!

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