GrrRrRRrrRRrrr.
Wheeeeeeee!
— An HPC Speedex
"You understand how this works, right?"
"It's a heater, Shay. It heats the garage."
"I'm talking about the plan."
I asked because I had a guy lined up for a trial run, and we needed it to be flawless.
Claire said, "I lure him into the hot tub so you can do your thing."
"He won't even know I exist."
"Yeah, yeah. I get the mark. You do The Bitch Boomerang."
"Whoa. We are not calling it that."
"Does it have a name?"
"The French Swap."
"Bitch, you're not French, and the keys aren't getting swapped. You're making copies."
"Yeah, but..."
"And in this thing, you're a ghost, right?"
"Right, but..."
"Boo."
"Oh, no..."
"Bro's keys go and come back. Y'know what that is?"
"Don't say it."
"It's a boomerang."
"We're not calling it that!!!"
"Whatever!!!"
This was my own fault. My plan required a partner smart enough to pull it off, and she had to be a talker to schmooze the marks. The problem with talkers is, they don't listen.
"CLAIRE!!!"
"WHAT?!"
"I'm trying to tell you, this is the one time the plan is different."
"Because...?"
"This guy isn't a mark and you're meeting him here. We're gonna use him as a trial run." Of course he was a mark. I lied so she wouldn't be nervous.
"Whatever. Who is he?"
"His name's Andre. He owns the store where I bought the hot tub. I said he should help deliver it, so he can show my sister how it works and help her break it in."
"So, I'm your sister again?"
"Always."
"Whatever."
"Listen, the hot tub's going in the garage, but I need you to talk him into getting undressed in the house. Then keep him in the hot tub for at least an hour, okay? Remember, this is just a test, but play it like it's real. He won't know I'm here."
"Whatever."
"A couple guys are coming with him to unload the thing and set it up. As soon as you start dropping hints with Andre about joining you in the hot tub, he'll get rid of his crew."
"Whatever."
Her lack of enthusiasm was starting to worry me.
"Remember: You're an urban outreach and assessment assistant."
"I thought I was an analyst!"
"Do a good job! Maybe you'll get a promotion!"
"Whatever!"
"Don't forget... You're elegant."
"Hell yeah, you know it! I am one fuckin' elegant bitch."
"Yeah. We gotta work on that."
As Claire went to change into something more flirty, a truck pulled into the driveway, and four men began unloading the hot tub. I'd already seen it in the store.
It was big, glossy, gaudy, and stupidly expensive-looking, like something rich people sit in while pretending their lives matter more because they have more. It had smooth molded seats and little jets that bubble up in waves. The outside was wrapped in fake wood panels, pretending to be legit.
It was really just a giant plastic bathtub with delusions of grandeur, but it was an important part of the show. And Claire was misdirection while I pulled off the ultimate magic trick. "We're gonna rob them all," I told her, when we first met at The Grand Cal. "And they'll never know who did it. They won't even know how it happened."
Claire came out of her bedroom wearing a red dress that swooshed back and forth across her legs as she hurried to greet the delivery crew from Spas Galore.
As I waited in the basement, by the stairs, I could hear Claire chatting with the men. Andre was the tall one. He was strong, dark brown, and ridiculously handsome, but in an almost ugly way. On first glance, you wouldn't see it. After that, you couldn't look away. He had a smile like a toddler who'd just taken his first dump alone and wanted to show you because he was proud. He was the kind of guy who looks smart, but isn't. The kind of guy who makes a girl think, "Part of me wants to climb you like a tree. But the rest of me wants to chop you down, because you're in the way and the firewood would be more useful."
Andre was dirty, too. The hot tub should have cost over ten grand, but he offered me a huge discount if I paid in cash and didn't need a receipt. I asked if I could pay in Bitcoin. He became a mark the moment he said yes. I paid in cash though. No digital trail, especially since I was still figuring that stuff out.
"Buyin' a hot tub in winter is smart," he said. "Price cuts are steeper." Using big purchases to scout for marks is smart. Salesmen are eager.
The hot tub took forever to fill, but the other men left, as I knew they would. And Andre lingered. Good boy.
I heard Claire talk him into joining her for a dip.
"So, Andre," she said. "Boxers or briefs? Are we gonna try this thing out? I'll get us some towels. You in?"
"Oh, yeah. Andre is in."
Andre was built like a mighty oak, but dumb as a stump. I knew he'd be an easy get because he tried too hard. Guys like that? You don't even have to reel 'em in. They jump into the boat just to prove they can.
Every now and then, I took a peek upstairs. I caught a glimpse of Andre stripping down in the hallway as Claire came out of her bedroom, this time wearing a blue bikini. I heard her say, "Gimme a sec. I'm gonna text my friend to let her know I'm not coming over tonight. Looks like I have better plans."
"Yeaahhh, Andre likes plans. Let's do this."
Then came the message that said, "Got plans tonight. No time for third person."
Ah, so I wasn't the only one who cringed each time Andre referred to himself by name. Very clever, Claire.
When I heard the garage door close, I went back upstairs and got to work.
Andre's pants were on the dining room table, neatly folded. Too easy. I grabbed his wallet and took a picture of his driver's license. I put it back. Then I snatched his keychain.
I headed to my basement workshop, which was really just an empty room with a shitty old wooden desk, an HPC Speedex manual key duplicator, and a timer. I bought the Speedex from a guy named Earl who taught me how to use it in exchange for the unspoken opportunity to constantly look down my shirt. Fair enough.
The Speedex isn't complicated. It has a sliding thing called a carriage that holds a key and a blank with a tracer and a cutter. Self explanatory. You run the carriage back and forth along a track. The tracer follows the grooves of the original key as a spinning wheel grinds to cut identical grooves into the blank.
Since this was my first time, I wasn't sure how long it would take. I started the timer and said, "GO!"
Why was I talking to myself?
Doesn't matter.
Andre's keychain had seven keys, including the key for his car, which I didn't need, but I made it a rule to copy every key from every mark, because you never know, y'know?
In order to copy keys, I had to take them off the keychain. I took pictures first, so I could put them back on in exactly the same order. Leave no trace.
I clamped the first key and a blank into the carriage and ran it back and forth.
GrrrRRRrrrr!
Metal chips flew as the cutter copied every ridge and valley of the original. It was louder than I remembered, but I figured that was just me being nervous. When the cutter reached the end of the key, the spinning wheel spun free with a soft "Wheeeeeee."
Yaaay!
"DONE!"
One down. Six to go.
I checked the timer.
The first key took a minute and a half, but I'd get faster with experience.
GrrrRrRRRrrrrr...
I could do all seven in around ten minutes, but my hands had to stay steady. One slip, and I'd fuck it up and have to start over.
Wheeeeeeee...
I blew the dust off the second freshly cut key, and tested the grooves with my fingertip. Perfect.
Two down. Five to go.
GgrrrRRrrRrrr...
"Please keep Andre in the hot tub," I thought, as I glanced at my phone to make sure there were no new texts from Claire.
Wheeeeeee...
Yay!
Creak...
"WHUT?!"
What the hell was that? Was it just an old house sound?
"Fuckityfuckityfuck."
I left my workshop and went creeping up the stairs, just to make sure everything was okay. I could faintly hear Claire and Andre in the garage.
"It's nothing," I told myself as I boomeranged back down the stairs. "Goddammit, Claire! I hate that word!"
Meh. I got back to work.
Three keys down. Four to go.
GgGRrrrrRRrrrrrr...
I couldn't help wondering, "What's going on up there? What's she saying to him? Is she good at this?"
I kept thinking back on previous catastrophes.
I briefly worked with a girl who took the mark swimming. She promised I'd have an hour to do my thing, but ten minutes later she texted to say I didn't have to rush. What. The. Fuck? Why was she by her phone, and would the mark check his? It was in his pants too. If he checked his phone, it'd be game over since he'd realize his keys were gone. Thank God, he didn't.
Wheeeeeeee...
Four keys down. Three to go.
Thank God, says the atheist. That's a joke. I'm not an atheist. I don't even believe in that. Everyb...
GGrrrrKACKmptweeeeee...
"Faaack!!!"
I jiggled it.
"Gotta start over on key number five."
GgrrrRRrRRRrrrr...
Everybody's gotta believe in something. I believe in me. The problem is, The Plan takes two. Got a partner? Gotta trust a partner. Every time I started with somebody new, I'd think, "I know what I am. What are you?" Can you ever really know?
Wheeeeeee...
Five down. Two to go.
You can never truly know another person.
GrrRrRRrrRRrrr...
Part of the issue with trust is that everybody's got secrets. You think you know them, but you don't. You only know what they allow you to see. Every human life is curated. I'll use myself as an example. I hid lots of things from Claire. I'm hiding things from you, and not even on purpose. Everybody lies, even if only in omission. Call it self prrr...
Wheeeeeeee...
...self preservation.
Six down. Just one more.
Most people barely...
"ACHOOO!!!"
GGGfweeerrrKAchump!
The sneeze wrecked that one. I had to start over.
GgrrRRrrRrrRRrrr...
Most people barely even know themselves. They hide the ugly truths about themselves they don't want to admit. Or aren't ready to admit. Everybody does it. Even you. You know I'm right.
"I wonder if Claire wonders what I'm hiding."
Wheeeeeeee...
"DONE!!!"
I looked at the timer and saw that it took almost fourteen minutes, but that included a panic break. I knew I'd get faster.
I grabbed the picture I'd snapped of Andre's keychain, so I could put the keys back on in the exact same order. There would be no signs that anything had been touched.
That took another four minutes because I put one of the keys on backwards, so I had to start over.
When I was finally done, I crept up the stairs. I could still faintly hear Claire and Andre in the hot tub. I put his keys in his pants and grabbed a bottle of bourbon from the kitchen before heading back to the basement to celebrate a job well done.
My mind raced every step of the way.
"STOP. BREATHING. HEAVY. DANDY. Shit! I mean Shay."
I didn't like feeling nervous. It made me feel like I wasn't in control.