I
was skulking around the entrance of the old Globe nightclub
when I noticed a man had pulled up to the curb on the street
in front of me in a small four wheel drive. He was fumbling
with a large sheet of paper which looked like a map. He
looked up and beckoned me over with a timid hand gesture.
As I walked toward the car he winded down the passenger
side window and I asked if he was lost. He quickly tossed
the map into the back seat of the car and asked in earnest,
"Are you Italian?"
I
am most definitely not Italian as any of my friends will
confirm and I laughed at the suggestion. He did not change
his tone but replied, "You look Italian to me. Northern
Italian, maybe?" I laughed again, but was somewhat flattered.
 He
then began to tell me how he was a sales executive for a
distributor of Italian clothing and was in town for Fashion
Week. Unfortunately he was leaving Sydney the next day,
but had a number of quality display garments with him that
he would prefer not to take back with him because he did
not want to pay the excess baggage charges. I had heard
about such scam artists before, and sensing my apprehension
he produced a set of airline tickets and an Italian passport
to prove his story was genuine. The verification of his
credentials didn't do much to assuage my disbelief, but
being a slow afternoon I thought that this character could
provide a little entertainment.
He
mentioned that he had some designer leather jackets in his
possession. He reached into the back seat and retrieved
a jacket which he unwrapped and passed on for my inspection.
I own a leather jacket and can tell the difference between
a real and a fake, and this jacket that he showed me was
definitely the real McCoy. The black leather was soft with
the comforting smell of a new luxury car, and the stitching
was even and strong. I knew this man was probably not a
clothing salesman, but was beginning to think that the clothes
he was peddling must be genuine and were probably stolen.
"How
much would you expect to pay for this fine garment?" he
asked.
"Maybe
four'hundred Dollars" I replied, knowing that this was the
balance of my savings account at the time.
"Four'hundred!"
he scoffed, "This jacket, she is beautiful Italian leather,
not retailing in Australia. She is latest design from Milan
and retails for twelve'hundred US."
He
shook his head and told me I was wasting his time, thanked
me, and started looking for an opening in the heavy traffic.
I backed away from the car and watched the man as he prepared
to move off. After about ten seconds he gave up any attempt
to move and beckoned me over to the car again. "Young man,
I have been thinking. You look like nice guy. I do a deal.
I can sell this jacket to you only. Six'hundred. Cash."
"I'm
sorry, but I only have four'hundred to spare. I can't pay
any more than that."
He
considered my offer briefly, but rejected it and asked
for five'hundred. Again we said our goodbyes and I edged
away from the car, but seconds later he called me over
again. He started showing me different styles that he
had available, brown suede, three'quarter length. Some
had zippers and others had buttons. As I inspected each
jacket I was convinced that each one was genuine and of
high quality. I was not thinking too much about where
these jackets had come from knowing that receiving stolen
goods wouldn't look too good on my resume. However, I
was interested in walking away from the deal with something
that could be sold for a tidy profit.
He
started offering package deals on two, three and four
jackets at different prices. I offered four'hundred. He
thanked me. He told me again that I was wasting his time.
He said goodbye. He said that I looked familiar. He asked
if I was Italian. He said goodbye. He beckoned me over.
He shook his head. He looked at his watch. I backed away.
He called me over. We acted out this little routine a
half dozen times before we finally struck a deal. For
my four'hundred dollars I would receive four jackets of
different styles. He was shaking his head and muttering
in Italian under his breath, probably something about
how his boss in Milan would not be happy, as if I was
still believing his original story. As far as I was concerned,
here was a desperate man with a whole lot of stolen goods
to get rid of, and I was a sure'fire buyer for up to four'hundred
dollars. I was impressed with my negotiation skills. He
had moved from his original offer of six'hundred dollars
for one jacket, to four for four'hundred.
 I
am not Italian and don't carry four'hundred dollars in
my wallet, so I ran over the street to a nearby ATM to
get the cash. I gave him the money and he handed me a
bag with the jackets. I walked back to the office with
a smile thinking about how to on'sell the jackets for
a nice little sum. Do I sell three and keep one? Online
auction or local paper classifieds? Either way I was going
to make a tidy package.
When
I got back to my desk I opened the bag and pulled out
a jacket. The first thing I noticed was the stitching
on the cuff was not as even and tight as I had remembered
inspecting in the car. Come to think of it, the grained
texture or the soft leather seemed less fine. I was starting
to panic. Wasn't the lining a little less shiny? I couldn't
recall. I raised the jacket to my nose and closed my eyes.
I was feeling nauseous, probably from the polymer fumes.
Damn!
I
thought back to the moment I left the man in the car to
get the money. Did he reach into the back of the car as
I walked away? Maybe. Was he smiling as I turned my back?
He was certainly looking smug when I placed those crisp
notes in his hand.
I
replayed the scene in my head over and over again and
concluded that my Italian friend had switched the jackets
when I had left his sight. The ones he showed me were
genuine and he had exposed a weakness by making me feel
like I had beaten him in the negotiation stakes. I had
dropped my guard and paid the price.
The
exact value of my error didn't take long to discover.
On my way home that evening I happened to pass by a $2
shop on Park Street. Hanging in the doorway were a number
of familiar looking faux'leather jackets with a sign in
large red block letters, "JACKETS $35". Two'hundred and
sixty dollars down. A small price to pay for that Italian
look don't you think?
|
