Chivalry is dead.
— A Fighter Not A Lover
I wasn't sure what I'd be doing with the money I'd get from selling stolen Bitcoin to Foke, but it seemed wise to keep it away from my real name and checking account.
Could I get a checking account under a fake name? Surely not with the shitty fake ID I had.
I needed to know more, which meant returning to Prints Plus, for a chat with Reggie.
"Hi again. I'm here to pick up my printer. Is it ready? Here's my receipt."
I handed him a fifty dollar bill with a note that said, "Expensive job. Let's talk. Not here. Ask me on a date. Hand me back this note."
You've gotta give guys very specific instructions. Even for something simple, lay it out, step by step.
"Sorry, your printer's not ready yet. Hey, you wanna go on a date sometime?"
Chivalry is dead.
"Uhm, well, I guess so. What time are you done with work? I could meet you here and we'll grab a drink nearby."
"It's almost five. I get off in a few minutes. How about now?"
Subtlety is dead too.
"Sure! Any good places around here? Somewhere with a good happy hour?"
We wandered a few blocks, to a bar called Afterglow. It's the kind of place that wants to look trendy but can't pull it off. But I'll never say no to tall booths and dark beer, even if I'm more of a whiskey girl at heart.
"You wanted to talk?"
Patience is deader than dead.
"Jesus, Reggie. Let's get drinks first."
He ordered South Shore Mist. A pale ale for a pale guy seemed pretty on the nose. I never trust a beer I can see through. I got a LaPorte Porter.
"OK, Reg. Let's get to it. I need a much better fake ID. If you can't do it, where do I find a guy?"
"How much better we talkin'?"
"Good enough to open a bank account, so I can start establishing credit."
"Five hundred bucks."
"Oh, that's not bad at all. I thought it would..."
"That's not for the ID. That's for the connect. The ID will cost you a lot more. Look, if you want something good enough for legal stuff, you're gonna need legal documents too. That's high end. It's not something I can do, but I know who can."
"Got it. Five hundred."
Then, he awkwardly squirmed, which surely meant something bad.
"So, uhh, I know this is business, but it could also be a date, right?"
Ugh. I should have seen that coming.
"Fuck no."
The wounded sheepdog look on his face was a good reminder. Never step on a guy that knows a guy, especially when you need a guy.
A gal who needs a guy who knows a guy... she needs a lie.
"Sorry, Reg. I thought you knew. I got a girlfriend. But if I knew the right girl, I'd totally set you up."
I figured that would make him feel better.
"Yeah, well, even the wrong girl would be good enough."
"No, she wouldn't. Shitty guys deserve shit. You deserve better."
That was a lie too, but like I said, he was doing me a solid.