No, really. Bring sauce.
— Not A Cook
I hired Abbie to create two Bitcoin events per month.
I'd like to say I gave her creative freedom, but the truth is, I did not care. I just needed her to round up marks without knowing she was part of a scam.
But, holy hell, she took the ball and ran with it.
When I flew back to Gary to do valet parking for her latest event, she handed me a flyer that said:
BLOCK PARTY!
A decentralized dating network, by Bitcoiners, for Bitcoiners. Connect with women who respect your worldview. Meetups & minglers. No pressure. Just fun!
"I've been pitching it two ways," Abbie said. "For guys, it's a way to meet women who like Bitcoin. For women, it's a way to meet guys with money. Y'know. Husband material, but I don't say it like that."
I was stunned.
"Abbie, I love this!"
"I knew you would!" she said. "I'm an influencer! Influencing is, like, my whole thing!"
She had a Block Party scheduled that night at a bar I found called The Sly. I chose it because parking around there was impossible to find. A valet scheme only works if marks use it.
Abbie's event got a solid turnout. Maybe twenty-five guys. Quality marks.
Beanie vouched for Owen and Yaz, so I hired them to run the valet. Whenever they parked a car, they wrote down the mark's license plate and gave me his keys. I was in a van, making copies.
The whole thing was seamless, though I did almost have a meltdown when I saw Owen logging marks in a notepad.
"Owen!!! Is you taking notes on a criminal fucking conspiracy?"
"What?!?"
"You never saw The Wire? The TV show on HBO? Does Stringer Bell ring a bell? You can't be documenting this shit!"
"Shay, you're running valet parking without a parking lot. The cars have to go somewhere, and we're gonna need to find 'em when the owners come back. I've already got cars shuffled across six lots. We have to keep track."
"Shuffled? What the fuck? Are you scattering them?"
As the words came out of my mouth, I felt like a fool. Of course he was scattering them.
"You never want a pattern, Shay. I'd keep track in my head, but Yaz needs to know where they are too. Don't worry. I'll shred the notes when we're done."
"You'll burn them!"
"I'll eat them if that makes you happy. No, really. Bring sauce."