Don't Trust.
Verify.
— A Chumper Sticker
I was supposed to be on my way to Home Depot when I spotted our first official mark. He was driving a bright blue Prius with an orange bumper sticker that said, "Don't Trust. Verify." That's solid advice, bro. It's also a crypto slogan, so I followed him.
He went to the AMC Theaters at the Southlake Mall, and bought a ticket for the Denzel Washington flick, The Little Things. I bought a big bucket of popcorn and called Claire.
The mark would be easy to spot on his way out of the movie. He was at least 6'2" and wearing a red puffer jacket. The problem was, he wasn't alone. Claire would have to get him away from his friends long enough to convince him to ask her on a date, and he had to think the date was his idea.
When Claire showed up, I asked how she'd get the guy, and she got pissy. She acted like I was questioning her skills.
"I got this," she said, rolling her eyes almost out of their sockets.
"Tell me how."
"Girl, you can't be serious."
"Come on. How are you gonna get some random guy walking out of a movie to ask you out?"
"FINE," she said, in a way that proved it wasn't. She backed up maybe twenty paces and barked at me. "C'mere, bitch."
As we walked toward each other, she collided with me, bumping me hard enough to send popcorn flying.
"Ouch! What the fuck?!?"
"Oh my God," she said. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I guess I wasn't paying attention to where I... oh... Hey, oh, Hi! Uhm... You're... cuuute."
She batted her eyelashes while running her fingers through her hair, and she twirled the ends that ran past her shoulder. Then, she dropped her purse, which I must say, was the show stopper. She said, "God, I'm so clumsy," as she bent over to pick it up. She tossed the strap over her shoulder as she stood back up, arching her back. And she cocked her head to the side with a turn, causing her hair to swoosh to the side. I'm sure if I was a guy, she'd have flashed a flirty look. Instead, her eyes shot me daggers as she said, "Have I made my point?"
Goddamn.
This guy didn't stand a chance.
"Okay, Claire. Yeah, wow."
"Told ya," she said. "I'll get him."
"I believe you. But when you do, I want you to wear this."
I handed her a red rubber bracelet.
"What the fuck?"
"We've both gotta cut down on our swearing, but especially you, because it's your job to charm the marks. Use this bracelet as a reminder. Every time you curse, take it off and put it on your other arm. Don't say why. Just do it. If the guy asks, tell him it's a nervous tick. Swapping the bracelet from arm to arm will help you become aware of how often you curse. I know it sounds weird, but it works, and we've both gotta cut down on the vulgarity. Like, way the fuck down."
"Looks like you need a bracelet too, bitch."
"I need a drink."
"You need to buy a dehumidifier for the garage, so we don't end up with mold. Get a better heater too."
"Yeah, yeah. This whole thing is a work in progress."
"You're done here, Shay. I'll see you when I'm done too."
I left and nervously waited for an update. When I finally got home from running my errands, Claire was on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table.
"So, how'd it go?"
"His name's Dave," she said. "We're meeting at a pub for happy hour tomorrow." She brought him back to the house that night.
Damn. She's good.
Dave, however, turned out to be obnoxious. I know it's rude to judge the guy you're trying to rob, but damn. Bro had nothing to say, but he kept on talking, and I kept the door to my bedroom open a crack so I could listen. That's probably rude too.
Don't judge.
They were in the living room for a while. He was facing away from me, but I could see Claire.
After watching her swap the bracelet from arm to arm nine times (GOD DAMN GIRL), Dave asked what the deal was. Tactful as an actual tack. Ouch.
Claire said, "I, uhm... I fidget. It's a thing. I used to twirl my hair, but a guy said it made me look like a ditz. Well, FUCK that guy. Hahaha... Ahem. Anyway, I had one of those fidget spinner things for a while, but I kept sending it flying off the table, so my sister said, 'Enough, girl!' She gave me the bracelet to fidget with instead. It kinda works."
Wha-ho! She handled it like a pro.
Eventually, she talked him into stripping down for a dip in the hot tub.
Once they were in the garage, I went looking for his pants.
I grabbed his wallet, to take a picture of his driver's license, and I snatched his keys.
His keychain had a quick release flippy thingamabob. It was easy to remove the keys and put them back on after I made copies with my Speedex. I stashed the copies in my desk and put his keychain back in his pants. My work for the night was done in under ten minutes. Not bad.
Claire's job of getting him out of the house took forever. Bro stuck around for hours. I had the door to my basement workshop open, as I waited for her to lose him. Finally, I heard Claire say, "I just don't think we're a match." That's girl code for "We're done here. G.T.F.O."
With the mark gone, it was time to talk.
I yelled up the stairs, "Took you long enough!"
"Yeah, well, he wouldn't shut up. He showed up with some quality hooch though. Hang on, I'll bring you some."
She came down to my workshop with a bottle of gin, a bottle of tonic, and two highball glasses. Nice!
"So, Claire, how'd it go?"
"Fine."
"What does he do for a living?"
"Don't know. Don't care."
"Well, what did he talk about?"
"His dog, his car, his gym, and how great he is."
Got a dog? Good to know.
"Any issues?" I asked.
"Nope. You?"
"Nope."
This was starting to feel too easy, and we were only on our first real mark. Shhhhh. She didn't know Andre was a mark.
Our process for getting their addresses and house keys was flawless. And living in the house with her was working out too. Claire was quiet and moody, but not like my mom. Claire didn't hide or disappear. If she was pissed about something, she'd bury her face in a book. She drank like a fish, but I did too. Only at night. Usually. And sometimes afternoons, but why not? We had a lot to celebrate.
Things were going well.
I kept the fridge stocked and made sure she always had money in her pocket so she didn't ask questions.
I needed her to work on asking the marks more questions, though.
"Hey, so, Claire... I need you to pretend like you're actually interested in these guys. Try to find out stuff that'll be good for me to know. When I hit their homes, it's easier to search for their Bitcoin seed words if I already know what to expect."
"What do you want to know?"
"You mentioned this guy has a dog. That means I need treats when I go to his place. Is the dog friendly? Does he live with anybody? Does he work regular hours? Details help a lot. And make up bullshit stories about your past. Use them to ask leading questions so he'll volunteer info without you needing to ask. Get him drinking to get him talking. Let him ramble so you can learn as much as you can. Details are everything."
"Fine. Got it."
Did she, though? This whole thing depended on her.