The Con | Teen Ink

The Con

April 1, 2010
By Alex Meyer GOLD, Hartland, Wisconsin
Alex Meyer GOLD, Hartland, Wisconsin
11 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Here I am with my face on the ground in the middle of who knows where. Who knows what happened, and who knows what will happen. And here I am. For the first time in my life I’m stuck somewhere with no money at all. I guess this is what you have to get used to when you have an occupation like me. This is my current situation. I suppose I should tell you how I got here. Well, here it goes.
Last night I went to the normal drop off spot: the intersection of Greenfield and MLK in Milwaukee at the Hilton, a newly built hotel. I usually have to take the elevator to floor eight in order to get to room 856. To my surprise, I was texted and told to get off at floor 11. I entered the elevator and immediately noticed a smell of old lady perfume. This smell is overpowering to even someone like me who probably showers once a month if I’m fortunate enough to find a bathroom sink. Anyway, back to the elevator.
“Hello there, youngster! Can I offer you one complimentary pass to listen to me teach you about our Lord and Savior, God?”
“Umm, excuse me?” I asked, confused. The elevator door closed and I pressed the 11 to send me up.
“I just wanted to know if you wanted to learn about God.”
“No thanks, I’m atheist” I replied. The elevator door stops at three and a girl who had obviously been crying walked into the elevator. She is holding onto what looks to be a picture of her and somebody.
“Would you like to learn about Jesus young lady?”
The girl didn’t reply.
“Hi,” the young girl said to me.
“Hey. You’re going to 11 too?”
“Yeah. No. Uhh I don’t know. I just don’t know what to do anymore,” the girl said.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. I don’t exactly know why I asked that question considering it was obvious nothing was okay. But whatever.
At this point she opened up to me with this long story about how her boyfriend was cheating on her and broke up with her and blah blah blah. I really could care less. I was about to make $300.
We arrived at our floor and me and the girl got off. The older lady stayed on. I believe she was an elevator Bible teacher if I had to depict her occupation.
As soon as I was about to walk down the hallway, the girl halted me.
“Stop please.” she said.
“What?”
“Please. I need you. Just stay with me please.”
“I really have to go. I’m sorry.” I heard footsteps behind me.
“Okay,” The girl said this strangely. It seemed all of her problems had gone away.
BAM. I was hit in the face and knocked out. The next few hours were mostly a blur. I believe I was driven in a car to somewhere, but I’m not sure. I heard the voice of the girl and some other man, but the man smelled an awful lot like the Bible lady’s perfume.
And now here I am, sitting down on the side of a curb writing up a report on why drug dealing is bad and how these two got away with their little con. But I suppose you already knew that before this report. Damn. What now?


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