Canned scam

By Jim

I'm waiting for the No. 44 out of Portland Community College when a clean-cut guy walks up to the bus stop. "Are you paying or do you have a pass?" he asks.

"I've got a pass. The fare is two bucks now."   

He replies with his real question: "Can you spare 80 cents so I can get on the bus?"

I wish I could say: "Here's a hundred dollars so you can get on your feet."   

But he's wearing a nice knit sweater and hip jeans -- he's dressed better than I am. It always strikes me as a market-research failure when guys in decent clothing ask grizzled, white-bearded, backpack-toting, down-and-out me for a handout.  

Plus his timing is bad. Just 30 minutes ago, I was on the phone with Chase Mastercard. For the second time this year, the fraud squad is calling to tell me my credit card number -- XXXX-XXXX-XXXX-4308, if you'd like to be one of the many people with access to it -- has been stolen.

 This time the scammers tried to buy $237 worth of anime videos from an online outfit in Florida. Chase denied the charge, much to their, uh, credit. Apparently their digital oracle knows I would never spend more than $150 at one time on anime videos.

Last time, the thieves succeeded in getting an $80 advance from a bank in Thailand. Now my credit card is canceled again. Since I have the card in my wallet, I'm guessing the number was taken at a Portland retail establishment.   

Mr. Cable-Knit Sweater gets my quick answer: "Sorry." He turns and walks away -- away from downtown. If he wants to get on the No. 44 -- which is heading downtown -- shouldn't he be walking north, not south?

So I saved 80 cents. You see, there are people who need the money more than Sweater Man does, people like Lehman Brothers, Merrill Lynch, Wachovia Bank, Bear Stearns, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. I'll be giving those big Wall Street players $2,300 next week. They dress a lot better than I do, too, but when they ask for money they don't walk away.