The con is said to be a good racket in the United States only because most Americans are willing, nay eager to make easy money and will engage in action that is less than legal to do so.
—Erving Goffman, “On Cooling the Mark Out”
The con game can best be elucidated as a dramaturgical event, with the con artist as actor, the street as the stage, and the game itself as a practiced, well-plotted ritual. In well-established con games, the con men rehearse their “talk” and use it with great skill to direct the action, particularly that of the unwitting “street citizen” who becomes the mark (or victim). The con game has many of the same elements as a play: props, a stage, a director, actors, an audience, a plot, and, finally, curtains. The con game seduces an ordinary citizen into a staged situation played out on the street:
1. The prop (such as money, a note, or some other item) is used to pique the curiosity of a street citizen and launch the action.
2. The actors (con men) define the situation for the street citizen, who is turned into a mark.
3. The mark is involved in the action via verbal suggestion, subjective suggestion, and/or gestural suggestion.
4. The mark’s ability to see clearly what is happening is clouded by a “temporary loss of self-consciousness.”
1 That is, the mark is lulled to sleep, in a manner of speaking, in part because he is thinking about the money he will gain at the conclusion of the con. This state of mind only lasts as long the con game is in operation; afterward the mark returns to his senses.
5. The mark is at the heart of the play and shares the experience with the con artists. He concentrates on the ending and therefore cannot clearly see what is happening throughout the linear development of the con.
The con game, like a good play, must have certain features if it is to be successful: believability, universality, reflection of the human condition, fluidity, and a seductive quality that ensnares the audience. It must maintain a level of arousal that delays any suspicion of the plot while simultaneously enticing and inviting the audience to stay until curtains. Con artists, as individuals and in teams, must not only manage what they have planned, but they must carry off this presentation smoothly in the face of interruptions, intrusions, and prop failures.
Erving Goffman, a Canadian-born sociologist of immense importance who used a microsociological approach, often used the terminology of the theater when analyzing human and social action. He argued that people are actors on a stage, performing, and that, just like con artists, we only take off our “mask” (our role or identity in society) when we are “backstage,” where and when no one else is looking. In the movie Paid in Full, one drug dealer tells another, “stay off the stage if you wanna get paid”—meaning, stay in the background and out of sight of authorities. That is classic Goffman.
Goffman recognized the importance of spatial dynamics in human interactions, and throughout his work we can find theories of relevance to the con game. “Teams perform in ‘front regions’—spaces from which they are observable by their different publics. They rehearse in, relax in, and retreat to “back regions,” where front-region performances are “knowingly contradicted as a matter of course.” Front and back regions are connected through a “guarded passageway.”
2 This element of teamwork is evident in the hotel con, which we will describe in this chapter, and indeed most cons.
THE HOTEL CON
In this chapter we will analyze the dramatic elements of one con game in particular, the “hotel con,” which was told to us by a con artist who had completed it successfully. It resembles in some respects the con Alibi’s crew performed in Times Square in
chapter 3. It could begin anywhere, in any city: a Harlem street, Union Square in San Francisco, London’s Piccadilly Circus, or the Shinjuku district of Tokyo. It includes several individuals, one of whom, in this particular example, must adopt a thick West Indian accent to make the con plausible. The second individual has been approached to help find an unknown address. The third appears, for all intents and purposes, to be a regular street citizen.
In the hotel con, props are used in the following order of appearance: First, there is the lost man with a West Indian accent. He appears to be a stranger from another country confused by the city he is in. He wears a cap, pea jacket, work boots, dungarees, and glasses. He is one of the two con artists in this drama, and he initiates the game by approaching the potential mark and requesting help in locating an ambiguous address that is written on a piece of paper.
The second actor (also a con artist) remains in the background. He only comes into the game after a mark has been chosen or after he receives a cue from the first con artist (usually, after the piece of paper has been handed to the mark). If the potential mark has already noticed the second con artist loitering near the scene, his suspicion may or not be aroused, but in a large, busy city, the con’s lounging need not necessarily be construed as unusual and in fact might appear perfectly normal. The role of the second con artist is to act like a regular passerby.
Choosing the mark is obviously a key issue. Many residents of New York are uncompromising, but contrary to the stereotype, they are not necessarily rude and offensive, just hyperdefensive. Those born here—or those who have emigrated or migrated here—have learned early on to be suspicious of a warm hello from a stranger because being cordial can peg you as a mark. That smile might hide a devious agenda. New Yorkers know that amid the fast pace, (begrudging) mass cooperation, and fight for survival, there is always room to be scammed, ripped off, or outhustled. That smiling face might be about to ask you for something you can’t give up or try to sell you something you don’t want. This is just a part of life in the city.
The ideal mark is a person who looks like she can be conned, swindled, or fleeced. She is a regular street citizen who must be “made” or transformed into a mark. She becomes the mark at the moment when she physically accepts the paper note from the actors. Generally, the ideal mark would be a stranger in the neighborhood, someone of a particular ethnicity, gender, or outward appearance or who displays “tourist” behavior, such as looking up at tall buildings, holding maps, or carrying a camera. If the person projects a sense of gullibility, they may become a mark for the con artist. On the other hand, too much vulnerability could be problematic. A person who is suffering some kind of distress or is crying, hurt, or intoxicated might appear to be the perfect mark, but this is not necessarily the case. For one thing, the person might attract too much attention, and the con artist wants as little attention as possible.
Alibi once talked about how the eyes of the mark are important in the con game. Interestingly, Erving Goffman mentioned “eyes smiling” as a “tell,” embedded in his notion of social recognition.
3 Goffman posits that smiling back “is a process of openly welcoming or at least accepting the initiation of engagement, as when a greeting or smile is returned.”
4 Alibi says you can tell (no pun intended) if a person can be conned if they smile back; it is a tacit indicator that the person can be had. The con artist looks for people who are willing to reveal themselves, and the eyes of a victim tell you something about the person’s vulnerability, or lack thereof.
In the hotel con, the most mysterious and intriguing of roles is played by this second con man, the anonymous onlooker. His job is to remain in the background until his cue—and assist in the getaway if things go wrong. As the con unfolds, he stands inconspicuously nearby, to be summoned when needed by some predetermined gesture—or if an altercation breaks out. He watches the whole situation at close range.
There are two universal aspects to this con. First, money is the key element used to seduce the mark. Second, the game relies upon the innately human urge to respond when others call for help.
Every con game is predicated on believability. Without it, the actors (con artists) would not be able to hold the mark in their grip. A single miscue or misphrasing can call into question the entire believability of the game. Like a theatrical stage performance, suspicion must be kept at minimum or eliminated entirely; in this case, that means that the lost person with the West Indian accent must dress like a West Indian, talk like a West Indian, and altogether appear believable as a lost West Indian person. If the first con artist suddenly loses the note with the address, or if the police happen by, or if a friend recognizes and greets them—all of these events would construe a kind of prop failure. It is also possible that the artist might start “bullshitting” (going off script), which might or might not work. Just as one can talk a “good game” on someone (also called “running the game down”), one can also bullshit for the same purpose, that is, attempt to work on someone’s mind to get them to give up something.
If the scene, props, and actors all line up as they are supposed to, the hotel con should play out as follows.
Con Artist 1 (the man with the West Indian accent) speaks to a man walking down the street (the mark). “Can you help me?” He presents a piece of paper to the stranger. The paper has an ambiguous address written on it: the address is not clearly written, and the sequence of numbers is off. Because the con is planned in advance, the artists have an address that is very close to a nearby address but not quite correct. Even the phony address has to be construed to be somewhat believable.
The hotel game, like all con games, is predicated on the notion of activating in the mark a particular trait or response in order to manipulate it toward a particular end. One of those traits is human goodness, or empathy—a willingness to offer help. This positive quality is exploited by the con artist and turned into larceny (as Alibi would call it) or greed, once the money prop is introduced. Remember Alibi’s adage: if the mark does not have larceny in his heart, he cannot be conned. This is how many con artists justify their actions.
The paper with the address legitimizes the call for help; it helps establish the authenticity of the con game. The paper is evidence that the person needs assistance and is in distress: he is lost, he can’t remember or find the address, thus making it necessary for it to be written on a piece of paper.
The paper also provides the mark with a physical item to hold. The physical gesture of making the mark hold something has many purposes. First, it distracts the mark’s attention from the surroundings and from others on the scene who might indicate that what is happening is foul play, and second, it demonstrates to the con artist that the mark is interested in assisting.
The paper note also offers a chance for the con artist to link their physical dexterity to their cognitive abilities and create and maintain a kind of rhythm between the two. As you will see throughout this con, the successful con artist develops a holistic integration between what is said (“Can you help me?”), what is shown (gestures indicating either approval or rejection, such as a raised eyebrow or expression of skepticism), and the mark’s verbal responses (“yes” or “no”). This rhythm must be smooth if the game is to be maintained. The con artist hands the note to the mark, who examines it and hands it back. That’s a kind of rhythm, and it also starts the beginning of a connection (however slight at this point) between the con artist and the mark.
The mark is then supposed to say “What’s the problem?” or something like that. This prompts the West Indian man to say, “I just came from the West Indies, and someone downtown at the Port Authority gave me an address to find a hotel on Forty-Third Street where I can get some pussy before I go back home. I have money I just got from a settlement, and I’ll give you fifty dollars if you show me where this hotel is.” He again shows the piece of paper with the handwritten address.
The West Indian man then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a roll of money that looks like a huge amount but is actually a “Chicago bankroll” (a fifty-dollar bill wrapped around several smaller bills). The money is the second prop; it introduces a larcenous, seductive element into the game to ensnare the mark. It also provides justification for the con artist to fleece the victim. Con artists may argue, in self-justification, that a person without larceny in his heart cannot be conned, but what they neglect to add is that this element of entrapment is part of the game.
The amount of fifty dollars is deliberate. It’s not too small a price to pay for help nor too large an amount to arouse suspicion. The con artist must be sure that all props are neither doubted nor questioned but taken at face value. A fifty-dollar bill is small enough to be believable but large enough to be enticing. The other function of displaying money is to make the mark believe that the lost person is foolhardy and thus deserves to be trimmed of his cash. The larceny inherent in the mark’s human nature is a key part of the sequence.
The mark is then likely to say something like, “No. I don’t want your money. But I’ll try to show you where the hotel is. I think it’s around the corner.”
Now another man walks past them. To the mark, he is another stranger—a street citizen. To Con Artist 1, he is a partner in crime. Con Artist 2 is another actor in the production, trying to maintain a certain believability. Con Artist 1 then directs his attention to Con Artist 2. “Hey, excuse me. Can you help me? I don’t think this guy [pointing to the mark] knows where this place is. I just came from Trinidad, and I paid some guy at Port Authority fifty dollars to give me an address for a place to stay.”
At this point, the mildly insulting comment by Con Artist 1 would be reason for the mark to consider stepping off, but if he does not leave, it can only be for a few reasons: either the money is an incentive to stay, or he may feel obligated to help and does not want to appear stupid if he can’t find the address.
Con Artist 2 says, with a pained expression, “Oh man, you were ripped off, that guy stole your money. You shouldn’t show your money like that. Don’t you know how people in New York City can be? Say, look man, I’ll show you where the hotel is. Both of us [pointing to the mark] will show you.”
Con Artist 2 defines the situation by exploring the behavioral possibilities and drawing the mark further into the situation. In this particular case, Con Artist 2 also immediately establishes a feeling of certainty in the mark by reinforcing how the lost person is indeed foolhardy and deserves to be fleeced. The incompetence and/or foolhardiness of the lost person is reinforced when Con Artist 2 notes that the man has already been taken for his money at Port Authority (“Oh man, you were ripped off”). He assists in eliciting the mark’s “larceny” by nodding and winking to the mark, indicating that the lost person is indeed a fool and can be taken. He implies that they can, perhaps, not only get money for helping but maybe even more money.
He fronts (pretends) these gestures to pull the mark into the thick of the action. His role is crucial to the production. He must act as if he, a regular street citizen, is helpfully assisting two strangers. He establishes a “we” feeling by giving the mark the impression that the two of them are just regular citizens who happened along and are united in helping a stranger find an address. This puts the mark in the firm position of “us against them.”
His actions are immediately decisive. Unlike the mark, who is unsure of where he is going, Con Artist 2 is not confused in the least by the ambiguous address. He immediately knows how to locate the hotel. He makes sure the mark does not leave by insisting that they both can find the address. Note that his behavior is “goal directed.” It suggests that the mark is capable of responding in a predictable manner to the encounter. A particular goal can be reached.
By acting the part of the regular street citizen, he soothes the mark’s feeling of aloneness or uneasiness in participating in the situation and also may eliminate any sense of doubt the mark may have toward the lost person. If the lost person has not seemed totally believable, or if there has been any prop failure in the game thus far, he attempts to make amends, to erase the error or neutralize it. This may happen if, for example, Con Artist 1 has made slips in his “West Indian” accent.
And once these ideas are planted, the mark begins to get drawn in and lose his sense of self-consciousness. People are not always aware of themselves as distinct units; indeed, the extent to which we are self-conscious at any given time varies remarkably. There are times when self-consciousness is acute. A person unaccustomed to public speaking who is called upon to address a large group may become so preoccupied with herself that she forgets what she had planned to say. On the other hand, there are circumstances in which self-consciousness disappears almost completely. When someone is absorbed in an exciting movie or novel and unaware of anything but the development of the plot, her vicarious participation is so complete she becomes aware of herself only when the drama is over or when something unusual happens to disrupt her concentration.
If the game is working correctly, the team of con artists has articulated the drama and has made the mark completely unselfconscious. The mark’s concentration is now solely on how the money will be spent. In other words, the mark’s eye is on the finish line. The mark has become a thief, and his greed has overtaken common sense. The talk of the con team is “co-doable activity”; it is an instrument to get that mark to give up something (eventually) or carry out an activity to the end. The act of the two con artists is performed in such a way that the mark does not see (or is not supposed to see) that he is in fact the “chump” or “sucker” in the game.
At this point the importance of teamwork in the hotel con should be obvious. Goffman described a team:
A team then may be defined as a set of individuals whose intimate cooperation is required if a given projected definition of the situation is to be maintained. A team is a grouping but it is a grouping not in relations to a social structure or social organization but rather in relation to an interaction or series of interactions in which the relevant definition of the situation is maintained.
In suggesting that teammates tend to be related to one another through a bond of reciprocal dependence and reciprocal familiarity, we must not confuse the type of group or clique. A teammate is someone whose dramaturgical cooperation one is dependent upon in fostering a given definition of the situation.
5
Goffman also writes: “Successful performances are staged not by individuals but by teams, who share both risk and discreditable information in a manner comparable to that of a secret society.”
6 Thanks to effective props, well-coordinated teamwork, and his own desires, both greedy and helpful, the former innocent citizen, now a fully ensnared mark, is caught in the web of the hotel con.
Scene 2: The Trap Is Sprung
Con Artist 2 continues the dialogue, looking at the mark: “You know this guy shouldn’t be holding his money like that. He could get ripped off.” He looks at Con Artist 1 and says, “I don’t want your money either. I’ll just show you where the hotel is.”
Note that in this speech, Con Artist 2 is both appealing to the mark’s sense of larceny (“he could get ripped off”) but also appearing charitable (“I don’t want your money”) and offering to help out of sheer altruism.
Con Artist 2 then looks at the mark. “Okay, man, let’s take him over to the hotel.” The three proceed toward the “hotel”—a predetermined building that the con artists have chosen in advance. The mark walks between the two con artists. Con Artist 1 walks slightly ahead. Con Artist 2 whispers to the mark. “Listen bro, this dude doesn’t know what he’s doing. We can take his money and split it.”
The mark will typically say something like: “No, I don’t wanna do that.”
Con Artist 2 attempts to elicit feelings of larceny in the mark by getting him to admit, or at least gesturally approve, the possible transaction. Even if the mark does not verbally agree, he is still following the rules of the game by physically coming along. His “no” doesn’t prevent the game from continuing. Since he is still walking with the con artists, he is continuing to help. Con Artist 2 continues, “Don’t worry about it. We can take this guy to the joint (hotel) and then rip him off.”
They arrive at the “hotel,” which is in fact the back of a building. Con Artist 2 looks at Con Artist 1. “Look, here’s the place. Go inside and see if you can get a room. You know I’m honest, and you know he’s honest [pointing to the mark]. We won’t walk away with your money like the guy at Port Authority did. But you know these guys in the hotel, well, they have prostitutes, pimps, and hustlers, and they gonna try and steal your money. So why don’t you let him [the mark] hold your bread [money] until you come out and tell us whether or not you have a room?”
This part of the action is intended to demonstrate “honesty.” If the mark sees the two con artists displaying their money in an open, honest way, then when he is asked to display his in the same way, later on, he will be more likely to oblige. Thus the money is used here to set up the mark later on. If the mark is asked to show his money, he may feel obligated to do so in order to maintain his self-image; in other words, if the mark is not dishonest, he will prove himself honest by showing his money or other items. Or he may unconsciously show his money before he actually realizes he is among thieves. He might also display his money out of fear. A combination of all those elements might account for his display of his money. This part of the game will only work if the team has been believable in conveying an honest impression. In some other con games, the artists might do this by showing their working papers, credit cards, IDs, and the like.
Con Artist 2 continues, “Everybody is honest here. Why don’t we all put our money in this bag and then you [the mark] can hold it.” Each person puts their money in the bag and hands it to the mark, who puts it inside his jacket. But then Con Artist 2 tells him he did it wrong. “No, no, don’t do it like that. Let me show you … put it in your coat like this.” He places the bag inside his coat, then gives it back to the mark, who does it the same way. Con Artist 1 leaves to go into the “hotel.” After a few minutes Con Artist 2 tells the mark he has to pee and leaves. After a few minutes of waiting, the mark decides to check the bag—and finds out it is filled with Monopoly money. He has been successfully “slammed” (conned).
Final Act: Curtains
While the mark senses, feels, and believes that he and Con Artist 2 will take the money from the “West Indian,” his actions, expectations, and motives in the game are very different from those of the con team. They, of course, hold the secret of the game between them. If the process is successful, the mark will be robbed of his money.
In a Goffmanian analysis,
7 the ability to influence the mark’s definition of the situation is based largely on the con artist’s presentation of himself. If the con artist is taken seriously (if he is able to lie successfully or present himself falsely by his impersonation of someone else), then the response of the mark to him will be in accord with what the artist would normally expect. He is an actor by virtue of his believable performance.
This suggests more fully how the mark is cast into a role (situation) in which he is involved with the con artist. The mark is compelled to respond to the con artist’s call for assistance. The mark projects himself into the role and responds affirmatively by offering his help. The reverse response is also a possibility, i.e., to reject the request for aid and thereby thwart the con game. That the mark projects his own emotions and experiences onto the con artist (“I was lost at one time and needed help”) suggests the symbolic nature of community as represented in a culture of shared identity. As Alibi once said: “When I have felt and revealed my innermost feelings to the mark/vic he can’t help but give me his support (money) because I know when I have expressed these feelings, when my talk really works, the mark/vic will feel that I have touched his own feelings.”
The philosopher George Herbert Mead further describes this interaction:
There are what I have termed “generalized social attitudes” which make an organized self possible. In the community there are certain ways of acting under situations which are essentially identical, and these ways of acting on the part of anyone are those which we excite in others when we take certain steps. When we assert our rights, we are calling for a definite response. Just because there are rights that are universal—a response which everyone should, and perhaps will give. Now, that response is present in our own nature in some degree. We are ready to take that same attitude toward somebody else when he makes the appeal. When we call out that response in others, we take the attitude of the other and adjust our own conduct to it.
8
We argue, however, that the transaction may be much simpler: many victims go along with the con not only because of larceny but because they are overwhelmed, confused, and/or may be afraid of what happens if they do not comply with the con. This may account for why the mark continues to go along with the con artists even though he or she may know better.