I know what you’re thinking — how could someone as clever, charming, and savvy as me, a woman who wears red strappy sandals, get scammed? It happened like this:
My front door needed replacing because the water over-ran the gutters (due to the steepness of the roof) and the water rotted out the bottom of the door. The local home improvement store could replace it, but the door would have to be special ordered and it would take at least eight weeks. So, when this contractor said he had installed 800 doors and could start the next day, I said “do it.” It wasn’t long before I realized I had made a big mistake. I had a door that squeaked, leaked, and sagged. I complained, of course, and he said I was a “crazy old lady” and I didn’t have anything in writing.
Scammers have been around forever. The earliest recorded scam occurred in 300 BC when Hegestratos, a Greek sea trader, took out an insurance policy on his ship as well as his cargo of corn. Hegestratos planned to sell the corn and sink his ship and collect the insurance on both the ship and its cargo. However, the crew caught him trying to sink the ship and Hegestratos drowned when he jumped overboard to escape capture.
Five hundred years later, in 193 AD, the Praetorian Guard, a special group of elite soldiers, assassinated the emperor and then held an auction to sell the Roman Empire to the highest bidder. Scammers are always trying to sell something they don’t own.
In the 1880s, George C. Parker would approach people on the street. He said he wanted to put a toll booth on the Brooklyn Bridge and was looking for someone trustworthy to collect the tolls. He would point to the “For Sale” sign pinned to the side of the bridge and show them a counterfeit deed. The victims would buy the bridge, not realizing they had been scammed until the police showed up when they tried to erect the toll booth. It is believed Parker may have sold the Brooklyn Bridge more than 40 times. It is said that Parker also sold Madison Square Garden, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the Statue of Liberty.
Victor Lustig was a notorious gambler and con artist who traveled the world, charming his victims. Lustig is credited with selling the Eiffel Tower, twice. He convinced metal dealers that the Tower was too expensive to maintain, that it was being sold for scrap metal. The smooth talking Lustig would also take an ocean liner from France to New York, traveling as a music producer seeking investors for a fake Broadway production. By the time his “marks” realized they had been scammed, the cruise was over and Lustig had disappeared.
Whenever I looked at that door, I got mad. I took photos of the sagging door, the uneven hinges, the thin strip of light peeking through the side, and went to see a lawyer. I told the lawyer I had nothing in writing, the contractor told me he wasn’t liable, and no Judge would believe a “crazy old lady.” The lawyer looked at me sadly and said “tsk, tsk.” I said, “I want to sue, anyway.”
When the day of the trial finally arrived, the contractor settled. I was rather disappointed, I was looking forward to the drama of the trial, the shouting back and forth and the judge banging the gavel. I am a fan of Judge Judy.
Lynda says, you should never underestimate a “crazy old lady” who wears red strappy sandals. She can be reached at lyndaabegg@charter.net. Opinions expressed in this column are reflective of the writer only and are not necessarily shared by the newspaper.