When I’m bored, when things seem not to surprise me anymore, I will occasionally accept a friend request from a stranger. I don’t go out of my way to find them. No. They find me, customarily, because I don’t have very tight security on my social media. But you see, that’s what I want. The sociopath in me gets a small thrill out of engaging with a con. They’re always good for a few chuckles before I cut them loose.
The interesting thing about cons is they think so highly of themselves, they believe they’re harmless. They think they’re so smart, making a game out of parting a few fools from their money. Some even go so far as to call them “con artists.” Artists. Promoting them to the level of a poet or a painter. Shameful.
The most popular hunting ground of the twenty-first century is the World Wide Web. Specifically, social media. Good old Facebook, bringing predator and prey together since people finally wised up to the fact there is no prince of Nigeria. But what these would-be predators don’t realize is that I’m not very tasty prey. I’m not prey at all. If I flatter myself, I am more like a cat who likes to bat around the birds for fun. I don’t want to kill the birds, just play with them. It’s not as if I have any way of catching these criminals or turning them in beyond reporting their profiles to the host platform. I’m not getting paid to catch thieves.
All I do is let them think they’re succeeding with me. It starts out a little awkwardly at first, those pesky introductions. Invariably, they start in the social media chat and then ask me to move to an encrypted app that has the same functions as a regular phone, such as Whatsapp or Hangout. This never changes.
Hello. How are you?
Fine, thanks.
Where do you live?
This question might seem innocuous, but any personal information I give can cost me more than just this little game I’ve decided to play. So I equivocate. I say I’m not comfortable giving out personal info, or I make something up instead. It’s more fun to throw them off and refuse to tell them. Friendly people say ‘yes.’ Nice people say ‘yes.’ But since I’m neither of those things, I prefer to watch them flounder to keep making a good impression. Cons are counting on the people who adhere to the proper protocols of manners, trusting in their foolproof system to apply the right kind of pressure. If I tell them I am afraid they are a scam, they are always very quick to reassure me.
This isn’t a scam. I’m a real person. Honest. I’m not selling anything. I’m just trying to help you. You can trust me.
That’s step one of the con’s playbook. Make the mark agree with you, or at least make them smile. There’s debate as to whether there are four or five steps because some think the first two can be combined into one, as I have just done. But the smile or agreement is crucial to continue on. Because if they can make me agree with them once, they’re confident they can make me agree with them again. The more times I agree with them, the more they think they can take me for.
The next thing they’ll tell me is what they “do” for a living.
Are you interested in the stock market?
Do you know what a Sugar Daddy is?
Are you familiar with bitcoin?
I pretend ignorance and ask them for more information.
I’ve never done it before.
No. What does a Sugar Daddy do?
I’ve heard of it, but I’m not sure what it is.
This step can last anywhere from a few minutes to several days. My personal record is a little less than two weeks. I drag on, saying I can’t talk right now, I’m busy at work, I’ll let you know tomorrow, etc. As long as they keep texting me, I can prolong our game. When they start getting frustrated with me, I say I’m interested, but I’d like some more information. Or that I’d like to do my own research. This process is a bit of a balancing act, but as I said, my personal best is just under two weeks. This is when they move to Step Three. Flatter the mark/make them feel superior. Not many cons are very good at this step because they can’t seem to check their own egos long enough to do a proper job of it. They play this part sloppily, using endearments like “sweetie,” “gorgeous,” “my dear,” “dearest,” as though we are the best of friends, the most tender of lovers.
So when they get frustrated with me, I receive messages like,
Don’t you want to be rich like Donald Trump? I’ve been blessed by God and I just want to bless others, just like him.
I am a very rich man and I take care of my family. I just want to take care of you. I go to church and I pray to God every day. I just want to take care of you, baby.
Money is a spiritual thing, pure energy, just like the love of our Lord Jesus. It can never be destroyed, it only changes. I pray every day, and I want to bless you with riches.
Funny enough, I do believe that they…prey…every day…just with a very different vowel in the middle of the word.
Which brings our dance to Step Four: they want to give me something. The investor wants me to know I’m not investing with him, I’m investing in my own future. The Sugar Daddy wants to give me thousands of dollars a month just to take care of me so I won’t have to worry about money or work if I don’t want to. And the bitcoin broker wants me to earn hundreds of thousands of dollars in one week! How exciting.
But they all need something from me first. The investor and the cryptocurrency broker both want me to give them money. The Sugar Daddy wants my banking information, and for me to send him a “non-sexy” picture of myself every day and tell him how much I love him. He also wants me to call him Daddy.
This is it. For me, this is Step Five: Get what I want and get away clean before they know what hit them. This is what this whole dance has been leading up to, the finale, the dip at the end of the music. I watch them as they think they’ve hooked themselves a tasty little fish, and the moment when they realize they will never achieve their Step Five? Mmmm. Delicious. The game is over. They lost. And when they figure it out, I’m already done playing. If I decide to wait around long enough to watch them get angry that I’m walking away from such a great deal and they don’t understand why I won’t invest, why I won’t give them my banking information, I tell them to learn to lose gracefully and to always remember the old saying, “You can’t con a con.”
Time to return to regular life, the game having concluded just as I wanted it to. I do my civic duty and report their profiles to the various hosts and block them, whispering to myself as I close the screen, “Got you.”
Thalia Huntley 