Six Scams and a Movie

 

 

“Don’t take a grifting class.  You’re gonna get grifted” — Jeff Winger, Fake Attorney

There’s a lot of truth in those words, spoken by a man who considers grifting to be “the art of lying.”   However, according to self-described grifting god Roger DeSalvo (aka: Jeff Goulash, aka: Phillip Switch), “only a liar would call grifting lying.”   So who’s being honest here and who’s trying to pull a Reverse Jim Gaffigan?   One needn’t be a professor of grifting to figure that out.

Awhile back, I had the pleasure of grifting a would-be grifter with a grift of my own.  This artless thug hit me up over e-mail and tried desperately to separate me from my hard earned money.  I responded with nothing but Seinfeld references and to my surprise, he never caught on.   The result was an entertainingly absurd grift-within-a-grift which you can read RIGHT HERE.

So when another flimflammer hit me up in my capacity as an events coordinator, I figured another ruse was worth running, only this time delivering zingers from the much under-appreciated television comedy Community.  If you’ve seen the show, you’ll  get many of the references.  If you haven’t, you should should start watching it now and thank me later.  Even so,  you don’t need to be Slick Pockets Tucker to appreciate the absurdity.

So grab your regulation grifting briefcase, put on your extra believable socks and watch out for counterfiet fries!   We’re about to pull a long con that’ll make the Texas Well Baby seem like a mere African Telegram.

Okay… let’s grift this sonofabitch!

Our first scam — or “season” as Abed might call it — starts out pretty simple.  Having seen these types of e-mails before, I immediately recognized it as a poor man’s Brown Betty .  “Danny Moore” was certainly no professor of grifting, but I still had to respond professionally on the off chance he was merely an idiot.

Notice he didn’t even say what he was inquiring about, other than my well being and my cell phone number.   That was red flag number one.  Even so, I’ll play his little game.

“Danny” responded with a menu request that can best be described as “word salad.”

 

Now, of course I don’t have an actual price for such an eclectic mess of an order, but what kind of reverse-grifter would I be if I couldn’t just Winger it?

So far, so good!  “Danny” is on the hook.

So here comes the test as to whether “Danny” will fall for my grift-within-a-grift.  Surely a seasoned con artist such as himself wouldn’t fall for such absurd menu selections.  Would he???

YES!!! He fell for it!!!  But there’s no way he’s getting my cell phone number.

 

 

Danny didn’t respond right away and I thought maybe I had lost him by refusing to hand over my digits.

Fantastic!  He’s still on board.  And apparently, he liked what he saw!

Okay, we’re about to really get underway here.  The “favor” is always the part where the plot turns. Fortunately, this isn’t my first diorama!

Those of you who followed along with the earlier Seinfeld-themed Scam About Nothing might remember how this grift works.  For those who need a refresher course, here goes:

The credit card number “Danny” is  offering to provide is real, but it’s stolen. If I were to run the deposit plus the additional $150, the charge would intially go through as a legitimate transaction.  “Danny” is then hoping I’ll send “the cake maker” his fee from my own account, thinking everything is on the up and up.  But soon after I give him that money,  the credit card company will get word of the fraudulent charge, and reverse it.  I will have just given him my own money, with no realistic legal recourse to get it back.

Naturally, I’m going to string him along.  But he’ll never get any money from me.

Remember: I’ve got his number, but he’s not getting mine.

 

 

A day goes by and I haven’t heard from “Danny.”  Perhaps he was awakened.  Still, I persisted.

And I persisted….

But “Danny” was done.

But, I again persisted.

And persisted…

Until it finally became clear.  “Danny” had figured out the grift.

 

Sadly, season one came to an anti-climactic end.   However, it was entertaining enough that the powers-that-be (me!) went ahead and renewed the fun for a second season.  Only this time, instead of “Danny” seeking me out, I would seek out “Danny!”

Welcome back, Human Beings!

Sure, I could’ve left well enought lone with our old friend “Danny,” but part of me just couldn’t let it go.  After all, in the Seinfeld scam, I had managed to get the scammer to give me three credit card numbers, which I promptly reported to the credit card companies as compromised.  I didn’t want this scammer to get off that easy.   So I sought him out, using a different e-mail, posing as a chef named — get this — Jeff Winger!

OMG!  He bit!  Let’s see if we can string him along even further.

Oh… you am sure?

 

NUANCE ALERT!  

Please note the wording for this order is exactly the same as the Season One order.  The only differences are the location and the date, along with a smaller font than that of his previous posts.   Those changes have all the hallmarks of a haphazard copy-and-paste job.   I expected so much better from you… “Danny.”

At this point, “Danny” is just getting sloppy.   We’ve been through this song and dance before, but the copy and paste job is just pathetic.

With the Christmas season being busy, I took a few days off from checking my alternate e-mail accounts — after all, one can only eat so many free fake birthday pancakes from IHOP.   I thought perhaps “Danny” had given up on me, so  I checked in on Christmas Day to see if I could still yank his stocking.

No there is not!

Here we go again.

The goal of each reverse grift is to get credit card numbers from the scammer and report them to the credit card company as stolen.  During the Seinfeld grift I was able to report three numbers and presumably save some unsuspecting consumers from financial headaches.   In Season One of this adventure, I fell short of that goal.  Let’s see if Season Two is more promising.

 

 

Cos?  Seriously?

And that’s still a big negatory on the phone number.

 

Full disclosure:I don’t have either a Clover app or the Clover reader, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Success!  Mission accomplished!  Now it’s just a matter of reporting the stolen card to the proper authorities!

 

This is where the story takes an unexpected turn.  The previous times I’ve reported a stolen card, the credit card company was appreciative of my efforts and took the proper steps – cancelling the cards and letting the card holder know their number had been compromised.  This time, however, the person I spoke to was suspicious of my intentions.

REPRESENTATIVE:  Why are you telling me this?

ME: Because a scammer has given me this number and is attempting to make a purchase with it.

REPRESENTATIVE:  How do I know you’re not scamming me?

ME: What?  Because I’m the one calling in to tell you a card number has been compromised.

REPRESENTATIVE:  Why would you do that?  Why wouldn’t you just accept the purchase?

ME: Because I’m not selling anything!

REPRESENTATIVE:  Mmmm hmmmm.  Explain to me again how you’re not scamming me?

ME:  Look, all I’m doing is a grift-within-a-grift, running a combination of the Cincinnati Shuffle and the Brooklyn Two-fer on an unsuspecting Nigerian flim-flammer and… you know what… never mind.  I see your point.

So I gave her the number and told her to do with it what she will.  I’ve done my duty, such as it is.  Maybe the card got cancelled, maybe it didn’t.  Either way, it was time to turn my attention back to “Danny.”

Of course there was no official screen shot of a declined transaction.  So I made one up.

By now, “Danny” is becoming suspicious.  He wants to string me along, but he’s wondering if it’s worth it.

Spoiler Alert:  It’s not.

As mentioned earler, I don’t have a Clover reader, so I can’t send him a picture of it.  Instead, I feign indignance, hoping he’ll want to appease me.

That last Winger speech was apparently too much for “Danny.”  He abruptly cancelled season two, not bothering to respond to any further e-mails.  But I wasn’t done with him.  Less than two weeks later, I greenlit a third season.

For the third installment of this cyber shell game, I assumed the personality of Vaughn Miller, Britta and Annie’s hippie ex-boyfriend.  I made a mistake right off the bat though, sending him e-mails as Vaughn, but under the name Darryl Moynahan.  Hopefully, he’ll be so blinded by greed that he won’t even notice my carelessness.

 

Like before, “Danny” served up a copy-and-paste mishmash of absurd demands.  Only this time, the fake event would take place in Wilmington.

Another sloppy copy and paste job.  I expect better from you, “Danny.”

Actually… no I don’t.

 

Because “Danny” has proven to be quite suspicious over the first two seasons, I officially gave Vaughn the last name Moynahan, to match the e-mail address.  Can’t be too careful with grifters afoot.

Again with the cell phone number!  Ain’t happenin’, Bro!

See what I mean?  He’s suspicious.  Plus he has really bad sentence structure.

Lates indeed.   It appears he was in fact “looking some what you been saying here” and decided to call off the grift.

Three seasons down, and only one credit card number acquired so far.   “Danny” may have cancelled this scam, but Season Four is straight ahead.

I let about a month go by before starting grift number four.  This time I would go by the alias Philo McHenry.   And once again I would seek out “Danny’s” fraudulent business.

 

 

 

Once again, it was the same request.  Absurd menu, absurd budget.  Absurd copy-and-paste job.

 

 

 

Sadly, “Danny” rated my services as a one.

 

 

Sadly, season four did not meet expectations.   Let’s just consider it a gas leak year and move on.

(No!  We’re not gonna blame it on a gas leak!)

I wasn’t sure “Danny” would want to renew our playful “get a room already” banter for a fifth season.  But like a mistress in a Lifetime movie, he was more than ready to get busy.  This time I worked under the persona Chet Jetson.

No offense…

 

 

Not gonna lie.  “Danny’s” becoming a bit more perceptive as the seasons go along.  But we’ll definitely be back for season five.   If not, it’s because an asteroid has destroyed all of human civilization.  And that’s canon!

Shamelessly back for a sixth (and final?) season, I have adopted the name Templeton Ferrari the Third.  You may better recognize that persona as Blade, Britta’s on-again, off-again carney boyfriend.  Let’s see if this yahoo “Danny” wants to go around one last time (before shutting down completely.)

 

Again with the poor copy-and-paste job.

 

“Danny” offered up four grand four his usual menu hodgepodge.  And I offered up my standard response.

 

 

 

So this time I went a different route.  Naturally, I’m not giving him my cell phone number.  But I did create a Google Voice account and gave him that number.  Sensing my transparency, he moved forward with scheduling.

 

 

 

Uh oh… I may be losing him.  Time to seem a little less Abed-like.

Yes!  I got an LOL for that!   The wide brow doesn’t lie!

 

 

 

Here’s the point where we switch over to Google Voice.  I considered blocking out “Danny’s” phone number as a courtesy, but then I thought… screw this asshole! If he’s foolish enough to offer his digits for a scam, can I help it if a bunch of intelligent and resourceful readers spam him back repeatedly? And repeatedly?  And repeatedly?

Not that I condone that or anything.  (wink)

 

Back to e-mail for the menu reveal.

 

 

 

 

So now comes the advanced-advanced introduction to finality.  I’ve had my fun, but it’s time to reveal to “Danny” that I’ve been wasting his time through six fun-filled seasons.  I thought he might get angry, curse me out then disappear.  I did not expect what would happen next.

 

 

 

To my surprise, “Danny” didn’t just ghost me (or fire me, as neither can go through walls), but instead continued to engage.  I was happy to waste his time and he was, apparently, happy to let me continue.

Seriously???  What do I want?  Have I driven him crazy?

Not gonna lie, at this point, I’m ready to be done with “Danny.”  But I’ve obviously struck a nerve with him and he just can let it go.

Wow!  It appears I drove “Danny” crazy!  I think he blew a fuse and descended into chaos.  Remedial chaos, no doubt.

Through it all, I managed to get only one stolen credit card number and I have no idea whether it did any good.  But it was a fun ride and clearly “Danny” ended with more questions than ill-gotten gains.  And I’m okay with that.   His business is built on a strategic use of time in order to get money as quickly and as often as his marks will oblige.   To him, this truly is the darkest timeline.

 

“Danny,” I see your value now.  It was an enjoyable and entertaining six seasons.