Kareem waited in the long bank line for twenty minutes, aggravated, but patient. The moment when he approached a teller seemed like an eternity had passed. He smiled at her and thought, Act I, Scene 2.
He explained to her, he was a bank customer and headed to the University of Miami that summer. He looked at her coyly, and then added, “You’re way too busy to hear my life story—”
“Please, go ahead. I could use the break.”
“Oh! Since we’re being honest, my dad sent me in here to handle this cash advance all on my own.” He lied. “He bet my mother that I will get this transaction all wrong.” He paused and glanced at the limo. The teller’s eyes followed his. “Yeah, they are out there making wagers, right now, on whether I’ll leave this bank with the cash.”
The teller grinned. She was hooked onto his con. To fully reel her in, he passed her an Internet printout from the Miami Herald.
“I’m going to be staying here,” Kareem told her, as her eyes widened at the monthly rent.
She read the ad aloud. “Coral Gables, two bedrooms—”
“One for my gear.” Kareem interrupted her from deeply analyzing the ad.
“It must be nice. To do a cash advance, I’ll need a credit card and ID.”
Kareem slid the John Carter American Express and his counterfeit school ID across the counter. “I need two months rent, and two months security.”
She looked over his credentials, but a $9,600 cash transaction needed more reassurance. “Do you have a license?” Kareem leaned into the counter and whispered, “I hate to sound condescending, but Philippe drives. I simply ride.”
The woman smiled, and three minutes later, Kareem walked out the bank $9,600 richer.