But it was such a friendly place
I decided to visit a new town I’d never been to. This seemed to be a very popular place to visit; at least, that’s what the ads all said.
It was a very friendly town; everyone I said “Hi” to said “Hi” back and shook my hand. You don’t get those kinds of reactions where I live. If you are lucky, you get a nod acknowledging your existence.
There was a luncheonette in the center of Main Street, so I decided I’d get a sandwich and something to drink. I approached the counter and ordered a tuna fish sandwich and a Coke. The server behind the counter was very friendly. She said, “Sure thing. You’re new here, ain’t ya.”
I replied, “Yes. I’m just visiting. I’ve heard so much about this town that I had to come to see it for myself.”
“Well, pleased to meet ya,” she said, shaking my hand.
That was odd. People in this town must like shaking hands.
It was a pretty good sandwich. I finished it and the Coke, and I asked for the check. She said, “No need for that, sugar. It’s on the house.”
The strange thing about that town was that no one asked me for any money in every store I went to – no matter what I purchased. I never had to take out my wallet. And there was all that shaking hands stuff.
I left the town late in the afternoon. It was quite a visit. Everything was wonderful, and everyone I interacted with was so friendly. On my way home, I decided to drop in at the bar in the next town. I went up to the bartender and ordered Jameson on ice. The bartender asked me for my ID.
I pulled out my wallet and handed him my driver’s license. He looked at the license, then at me, and then back at the license again. He reached under the bar, where I thought he was getting a glass to pour my whiskey in, and I heard a clicking sound as he pushed a button.
The next thing I saw was a sheriff entering the bar and sitting on the stool beside me. The bartender left the two of us alone.
The sheriff looked at me and said, “You know that identity theft is a criminal offense. If you’re convicted of identity theft, you could be fined almost $4,000, not to mention a number of years in jail.”
“Why are you telling me this? I’m exactly who my driver’s license says I am. Look at the picture.”
“Funny thing about pictures, they’re so easy to alter to match someone else’s appearances.”
This was ridiculous. Why would they possibly think I was not who I said I was, which is exactly what I asked the sheriff.
He said, “Well, I really do want to believe you, but as you are the 5th person that I’ve seen today with the same ID, I kind of question my own beliefs.”
Now I was in shock, “The 5th person with the same ID? How is that possible?”
He was very quick to answer. “Well, you see, it’s like this. We get a lot of identity theft in this part of town. You wouldn’t have, by any chance, been to the next town over today?”
“Yes,” I said, “I just came from there.”
“I bet a whole bunch of people there shook your hand, didn’t they?”
“As a matter of fact, they did.”
“Well,” he went on, “a number of pickpockets inhabit that town. We try to warn people away from there, but they still keep going there. Half the people that shake your hand are friendly; the other half, well, they got a great scam going. You see, one person will shake your hand and pick your pocket, take your wallet, duplicate your ID and probably your credit cards, and even take some money. Then they pass your wallet off to someone else, and when they shake your hand, they slip it back into your pocket. You weren’t curious why no one asked you to pay for anything?”
“I thought it was odd, but everyone was so friendly.”
“That’s what they was a counting on. They don’t want you reaching for a wallet that isn’t there. That would raise suspicion. They take the fake IDs they made, go to other towns, and spend as much as they can get away with until you get back to your hometown and figure it out. You’re just lucky you stopped here first.”
“So what do I do now?” I asked, getting rather anxious.
“Well…here’s the deal, sonny. I really want to believe you are who you say you are. So if you can get me, let’s say, $1,000 in cash, which would be about one-fourth of what you would have to pay if I arrest you and you are convicted, I’ll see to it that those other four culprits get what’s coming to them. When you get home, claim you lost your credit cards, and they’ll be replaced. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.
As scared as I was, that is exactly what I did. It wasn’t until much later that I questioned how that sheriff happened to know how much money in cash I had in my wallet.
