Sugar and I had cabin fever, so we called our friends, Rodney and Debra, to see if they wanted to meet at The Forks. They did.
I have written about The Forks previously. It is like an old general store in that folks can meet there, get a treat, and sit on the front porch. Tourists stop by too. So Rodney and I, together with our hot trophy wives, ate ice cream cones on the porch. I had a Jack Daniels cone. Yes, that is one of the ice cream flavors at The Forks, made by Walrus Ice Cream in Fort Collins.
I felt like we were decorating the place with our authentic Western attire in order to enhance the experience of the tourists. At the next table were two couples who had German accents. “Look, Ma, real cowboys!”
Rodney and I were each wearing a cowboy hat. A man who was also wearing a cowboy hat joined our group. He kept getting calls on his new-fangled cell phone. He explained that he was there to meet some people from New York.
“I don’t think they’re too smart,” he volunteered. “They had to ask me my address three times.”
We talked about a mare that he had for sale. Sugar was interested in the horse because of its bloodlines.
As we talked, the cowboy with the mare for sale got two or three more calls.
“I’m right here waiting for you. Where are you?” we heard him say.
“They said they will be here right away but they don’t even know where they are. How can they know how long it will take if they don’t know where they are? Boy, are they dumb!” He couldn’t get over how dumb they are.
After about a half hour, we were fixin to leave. The New Yorkers had still not arrived.
As we were getting up, the cowboy awaiting the New Yorkers was irritated by another call from them. He told them that he was tired of waiting.
At that point, we got nosy enough to ask why he was meeting them.
The cowboy got a sly look and confided with us that they were bringing him a check for $2.5 million. Sugar commented that she would wait a little longer if they were coming to bring her a check for millions, even thousands, even $10.00.
Then he elaborated. “Ya see, I won some lottery. The thing is, they won’t just send me the money. I need to pay them off the top for taxes and fees or somethin, so they are meeting me here to trade checks.”
I butted in. “Pardner, I don’t think their check will go through. They will get your check, which will go through, and you will be out that much money. It sounds like a scam to me. I am sorry to tell you, but I have heard of such things. I am a lawyer. Years ago, a client told me that he had won the Spanish Lottery. He wanted me to look over the paperwork. The lottery officials wanted him to send a check for taxes before they could send him his winnings. I contacted them and said they could deduct the taxes first and send him the balance. The was the last we heard of the Spanish Lottery, which, by the way, my client did not even remember entering exactly, wishfully thinking he had forgotten that he entered, maybe over the internet.”
The millionaire cowboy got a strange look on his face and left immediately. He did not even say goodbye.
Rodney noted something else. “Since he gave them his address but was to meet somewhere else, I wonder if they are robbing his place while he waits here. Why did they need his address if they were meeting here at The Forks?”
Rodney just might be on to something.
Boy, were those New Yorkers dumb!