How many times have I been told, "Don't open your door to anyone you don't know!" How many times have I & other neighbors done it anyway? For a seemingly intelligent person, I often have dubious judgment. Oh, well it all turned out alright!

Pan-handlers & scam artists aren't always that clever, but they know how to grab a cliched story & run with it. Try to poke holes in it & they just come up with another line. Preying on the goodness in people, they count on your desire to want to help & to want to believe. When your gut tells you they are full of poopie your well meaning conscience says, "What if they're telling the truth, what if they really need help? I don't want to discriminate. I don't want to call someone a liar! I don't want to be mean!"

We set ourselves up by being night owls with our lights on.

Around 1230AM our doorbell rang. My first thought is that The Professor, my housemate, had lost his keys again, my second was that one of our neighbors might be in trouble! Our front door has a window in the top and I lifted the curtain to see who it was.

There on the porch was a twinkly-eyed old black man, fence-post thin, with teeth begging for a dentist, reeking of tobacco, casually dressed but in good clothes. "Can I help you?" I said suspiciously, through the door, of course. I kept thinking that he resembled a fellow we used to chase out of the cafe I used to work at because he was a pick-pocket!

"I'm really sorry to bother you," he said sincerely enough, "You're one of the only neighbors who still had their lights on."

I gave him my best puzzled, "who are you?" expression.

He introduced himself as "Mr. Charles Crawford," a neighbor a few houses down. When I tried to pinpoint exactly which house that would be he mumbled, "you know past the stucco house, mumble mumble, next to mumble mumble." He let his voice trail off in those key moments.

"Anyway, again, I'm very sorry to bother you, but I have a bit of a problem. I've just been at the grocery store, you know Albertsons, down the way and when I came home, I locked my keys in my truck and now I can't get in my house. All my groceries are just sitting on the sidewalk." (He points down the block. "I called a locksmith, but I don't have enough cash on me to pay them, do you think I could borrow $40.00 from you? I'd pay you right back."

*It dawned on me later that $40 is REALLY cheap for an after hours locksmith.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I'd really like to help you, but, where did you say you lived again?" I know most of my neighbors at least by their face and I was pretty sure this guy was just pan-handling. "I don't remember seeing you around the neighborhood!"

"Oh, that's because I mostly work nights. You know my next door neighbor, Mr. mumble mumble, you know mumble, don't you? He tried to help me break into the house, but we couldn't get the window open. my wife's working at Kaiser & she won't be home until morning.

"Oh, well, there you go," I suggested that his neighbor friend, "Mr. mumble mumble," could take him to Kaiser to get this wife's house keys. "Oh, she doesn't have keys to my truck." "no, but you could borrow her house keys & surely you must have an extra set of keys to your truck in your home!"

Here began a tit for tat dialog where I poked holes in his story while trying to signal my sweetie to call the cops!

Evidently, Mrs. Crawford worked in some special part of Kaiser where she couldn't leave her station to give him keys and he couldn't go in. And evidently, she wouldn't be able to give her keys to someone else to pass to him either. Evidently there is a top secret "mumble mumble ward" at Kaiser Oakland!

"Gee, that sounds really frustrating! I really wish I could help you, but I just don't have any cash. You know, I've lived here a long time and I know most of my neighbors, including the ones who live in the house it sounds like you're saying is YOUR house. DO you have your ID so I can just see your address?"

"oh, well, you see, you see, that's the thing, I don't have it on me, I put everything in my truck, went to put the shopping cart back, and realized everything was locked in the truck, my keys AND my wallet."

"Well, that really is a bummer," I said, "I thought you locked your keys in the truck AFTER you got home. I'm a little confused." Again, I said, "I'm really sorry, I can't be of more help. I just don't have any cash, Really."

I have to admit. I was sort of enjoying how long this had played out. It was fascinating!

"Hey, anything would help, even if you've got some pennies. The lady next door only had $3.oo, anything, really."

"Oh, really?" I said incredulously, "They gave you money, next door? Who exactly, gave you $3?"

My next door neighbors are no dummies. They'd have seen through him too. Everyone in the neighborhood knows them & they know everyone too so if he truely was a neighbor he'd have been sitting in their living room waiting for the tow truck. Besides, their dogs weren't barking which meant everyone was upstairs for the night.

"So, who did you say gave you $3?"

"You know, the lady...mumble mumble"

There sure seem to be a lot of people named, "mumble mumble" on my street!

At his point, I realized I was going to have to break it off & call the cops myself. Besides, it was getting boring.
I told him, "I'm sorry, but I just can't help you."

Then Andy, uncomfortable, and always full of kindness, slipped a $5 bill through the cracked window hoping to get rid of the guy. Our "neighbor" gushed about how he'd pay us back. He'd put it under our mat tomorrow. I told him, "Please don't. Just keep it"

Just then, I see two police cruisers coming up the block with their spotlights on. My "neighbor, Mr. Crawford," suddenly got very uncomfortable! I said through the cracked window, "Oh good, maybe these nice policeman can help you out!"

But, Mr. Crawford didn't seem to thrilled about having their help. He stopped on our walkway and bent over pretending to tie his shoes which conveniently put him behind a bush! He had his back to me & his eye on the cops. I leaned out the window so the cops could see me and pointed to him with both hands.

They pulled over and after a brief conversation & after checking the ID that was in his pants the whole time, cuffed him. Turns out he'd been knocking on doors all over the neighborhood and that a someone a few blocks away had called the police. He had a $5,000 misdemeanor warrant out for his arrest so they were happy to take him away. The policeman said he was harmless, and while appreciating that I'd kept him busy so they could catch him he had to chastise me for cracking the window. "He could have been carrying a weapon!"

Always ready to add a little unintentional amusement to any situation, our housemate, Professor Inappropriate, arrived home at that very moment. Upon seeing the two cruisers out front, he was certain some major crime had occurred! A home-invasion, a stolen car perhaps, a murder? Perhaps someone had stolen the crusty dishes from his room or (gasp!) his role-playing books!

"What's going on!" he demanded after slamming the door behind him, not for punctuation, but because he always slams the door! "What happened! Why are the cops here?" He blustered, without giving us a chance to answer, "What happened?"

When he finally left a pause, I couldn't resist, "Andy farted," I said with my most serious face, "And someone called Homeland Security!"

The Professor glared at me, then looked at Andy," What happened!"

So, since he has no patience & no sense of humor, we told him the condensed version. When we got to the point about the warrant, he shook his head, "Well that was stupid!"

"What do you mean?"

Well, if the guy had a warrant out for his arrest why was he out trying to scam people? He should be laying low, not committing more crime!"

We cracked up. "Are you serious? That's what criminals do. They don't think they'll get caught!"

Evidently he was serious. "Well if I had a warrant out for my arrest. I wouldn't be stupid enough to go out and commit more crimes!"

This from Mr. "I grew up in New York. I have street smarts! I can handle myself!" Andy & I just lost it at that point which sent him stomping off to his room!

If he'd answered the door, he'd have probably invited the con-artist in, offered him a brandy and worked out a loan with payment plan!