Love is the key to your heart.
This is the key to your front door.
It's lovely.
— Not Your Keychain
During COVID lockdowns, I had time to come up with the perfect plan. I'd steal Bitcoin without hacking, because fuck if I knew anything about that. I'd do it old school, every step of the way.
The Plan was simple:
Buy a house, a hot tub, and a key duplicator.
Find guys who own Bitcoin. They're marks.
Find a partner to use as bait, to lure marks.
My partner brings a mark back to the house.
He takes off his pants for a dip in the hot tub.
I go through his pants to snatch his driver's license and keys.
I make copies and put the originals back in his pants. He'll never know it happened.
His driver's license gives me his address.
My copy of his keys gets me in without breaking in.
I search his home to find his Bitcoin seed words. Most Bitcoiners write them on paper to protect themselves from online hackers. But I'm not a hacker. I'm a chick with a camera. I find his seed words, take a picture and leave no trace.
The mark wouldn't even know I exist.
I'd be a ghost!
But for this to work, I needed more than just a partner. I needed the right partner. She had be a girl I could teach and mold into what I needed her to be.
Since nobody likes being told what to be, I needed a girl so desperate to escape a bad situation she'd do anything to get out. She'd think she was using me to get out.
And I knew where to find a girl like that.
Broadway.
They say the neon lights are bright on Broadway. I don't know who the fuck they are, but they've never been to Broadway Avenue in Gary, Indiana.
Broadway is a dark and depressing place, even during the daytime, but it's so much worse at night. Especially on a cold winter night.
In January 2021, I spent many nights wandering along Broadway, watching the ladies at work in the shadows. Just watching.
One girl kept approaching cars, but she usually backed away, like she'd changed her mind or couldn't do it. The only driver I saw her actually talk to was in an old, beat-up, gray Cadillac. I could tell she wasn't sure about what she was doing. I watched her lean in the window. Her head got pulled in. She decked the guy and he shoved her back out, sending her reeling across the sidewalk.
She hit the ground hard and tried to hide her tears as she picked herself up, walking away in disgust.
I know that look.
I followed her into The Lakeside Saloon, a shitty bar, befitting a shitty situation in a shitty town on a shitty night.
She ordered a drink. Whiskey. Neat. The way she nursed it said it was a luxury she couldn't afford.
I waited for her to finish it before I made my move. As she stared at the empty glass, I made eye contact with the bartender and waved him over.
"Tell my sister her next one's on me."
"Your sister?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, I didn't know."
Neither did she, but as she looked my way with a raised eyebrow, I knew she took the bait.