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2005-03-15 - 7:26 p.m.

Okay, this is a very embarrassing story and I don�t usually share it, but you�re special. This happened in early high school, in the late 1980s, pre-Giuliani bad old days of New York. My only defense is youth; I was maybe 14.

It was afternoon and I was going to the Mid-Manhattan branch of the library to work on some paper. It�s a few blocks away from the main library at Bryant Park (still a needle park at the time) with the famous lion statues in front. I don�t really remember why I went there, but it was kind of a social scene with high schoolers from around the city. Not that I went to socialize, but it�s often more productive to work surrounded by peers, y�know?

Anyway, walking from the train I passed a guy hustling the shell game on top of a cardboard box in the middle of the sidewalk. A bunch of people were standing watching him and he was trying to cajole back a player who�d apparently given up and was walking away.

�Come on, you know which one it�s under! Forty will get you eighty! Come on!�
The mark shook his head and backed away. The shell guy turned over one of the plastic cups, exposing the nut (actually, I think it was a small ball of gum or an eraser or something).
�It�s right there! You called it! Just put your cash up � forty will get you eighty! Shit, anyone else wanna take this guy�s bet? Forty will get you eighty!�

I knew the shell game. The nut was indeed right there and I had my eye on the guy�s hands. There was no way he could have switched it. Without thinking, I stepped up. �I�ll take that!�
�Right on, just put your cash out!�

Forty dollars was all the money I had. I laid it down on the box. With one motion, he scooped up the cash, swept the box over with his leg, and turned around like he was just standing on the sidewalk by some litter minding his business. A few women who were apparently his shills turned away too. The remaining spectators just blinked dumbly, like the confused tourists and rubes they were. Wow. He�d taken me and he didn�t even really need any skill at manipulating the nut.

Feeling numb with shock, I hung around until he set the box back up. I watched him hustle a few more people. The shills pretended to watch and egged the marks on. When they put the cash down, he would do the same scoop-sweep-stand final motion. Really, it was a brilliantly simple con.

After a while, I went up to him.
�Look, you got me fair and square. But that was all the money I had. Can I get a dollar back for the subway home?�
He looked at me, shaking his head in disbelief and gave an incredulous sigh.
�Damn. Ain�t no free lunch, kid.�
Dismissively, he gave me a dollar for the ride home.

I guess I paid a lot for that lesson. Ain�t no free lunch.

� 2005 Geoff Gladstone

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