“Broke again,” Simon moaned, not expecting a response.
There was no one in the room except Rocky, the understanding brown dog who was his only friend at this point.
Divorced, near bankruptcy, and about to be evicted from a shabby house, a new plan was imperative. He had embezzled as much as he dared from his dead-end job and he was not motivated enough to rob a bank. His options were shrinking fast.
“Rocky, What I need is a rich woman.”
The dog’s ears became alert at the sound of his name. Simon tossed a treat to him.
“Yeah, Buddy.” Simon continued, pretending Rocky’s alertness was a sign of interest in their plight, “I believe that just may be our ticket out of this hole.”
He grabbed a pencil and pad and started a list that soon took on the appearance of a serious project. Most of the items were related to a female’s net worth, vehicle, and life insurance. He threw in a few vague preferences about her looks and age.
“Now where,” he pondered, tapping the pencil on the table,” would I most likely find such a woman?”
Bars and clubs were out. He needed a conservative, honest type person who was gullible; the kind, he surmised who might be found in church or on a Christian dating website.
Into this new scam in a big way, he hurriedly jotted down attractive adjectives about himself. He was very careful in the wording to avoid sending up red flags too soon.
“That’s it!” he yelled, waking Rocky from a sound doggie dream, “I’ll use the name of someone with good credit, lots of money, and no rap sheet.”
He needed an identity guaranteed to reassure a trusting woman, but not one so prominent as to tip her off. Suddenly, like a flash of genius he knew whose name would be perfect: his boss!
Mr. Dumb-But-Wealthy went to church, was not married and even better; he would be out of the country for at least a month.
With little time left on his electricity and house, Simon ran to the computer and logged in to places he expected to find a perfect match. He used a company credit card to pay for memberships.
It was easy to type glowing statistics: “ Thirty something, lonely guy, graduate of Bible college, loves to travel, financially secure, seeking soul mate for marriage. Looks unimportant. A-1 character a must.”
He passed on the long walks on the beach part. After all, if he supposedly had so much money, let her imagine the romantic stuff. He thought the Good Book angle was a perfect touch. He signed himself,
“ Foxy Guy with pure intentions.”
This fishing expedition yielded an amazing catch. Twelve different women responded. Some were gushing, others reticent, all sounded pliable. Man, this was too easy. He should have concocted this plan a long time ago.
Since time was breathing down his neck, he made a quick decision and responded to a blurred picture whose e-name was “Ms. Piggy.” He did not care if that referred to her looks or her habits, as long as she had the kind of dough to which she alluded. He even revealed his borrowed name, Jonathon Gatewood.
Surprisingly, she was not too far away. After a few days of chitchat, he asked her to meet him for a cup of coffee. He arrived at the fancy java cafe with time to spare, and took a booth where he could watch the door.
He noticed a gorgeous statuesque, red haired woman sitting by herself, looking very self-assured and sipping what looked like plain black coffee. Wow, impressive. It couldn’t be “his” woman since she said she would be wearing a blue hat.
Just then he looked up and nearly choked on his fancy double latte cappuccino. His boss was walking in the door! Worse, he was headed for the beautiful female drinking the house blend.
The woman stood and smiled as Mr. Gatewood strode towards her. They hugged each other in a most comfortable way then slowly walked past Simon’s table. Without stopping, the boss looked him in the eye and simply said, “You’re fired, Mr. Foxy guy.”
Ms. Piggy flashed her badge with one hand and put on her blue hat with the other as she directed two detectives to the stunned man with the gaping mouth.
“You have a right to remain silent,” one of them began. Simon didn’t really hear the rest.
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