I like to think I’m kinda smart, a little worldy. And then I was scammed in a Copenhagen shell game.
Having just completed some scientific, sociological research which required me to drink a large beer in the early afternoon, I make my way out of the Copenhagen square and encounter Red. Red is so ugly he’s adorable. He allows me to get right up in his grill and snap his picture. What a mug! What a shot!
Suddenly, I like Copenhagen! Could be the beer, could be that the sun has finally emerged, could be the great photo with my Canon Powershot, or all of the above.
Look! A shell game! A real, live Copenhagen shell game! I join the camaraderie, the circle of pals surrounding the operator, and they welcome me heartily with backslaps and arms draped around my shoulders. We watch the game intently.
I know what shell it’s under. I know! I know! I know! How can they not see it? I cannot pull-out all my cash ($100) from my wallet quickly enough.
“Obama money?” the operator asks, rubbing his hands together.
“Definitely not Mitt Romney money,” I reply, oh-so-wittily. They all laugh. They think I am so funny!
And now the operator switches the shells again, and I’m suddenly betting on something other than I thought I was betting on, and all the men are encouraging me and I’m confused and everyone points towards one shell but I don’t know and…there go my twenties. Right out of my hand. Scammed!
But he swears I can win them back if I just bet my 2,000 DKK. Hmmmm….
Like out of a Grimm’s fairy tale, a wrinkled woman, bent over and clad in a black shawl, hobbles past, sticks her face an inch from mine.
“Noooooo…..!!!,” she scolds. She seems so disappointed in me, so horrified by my behavior. And I realize I’m not so smart. Not so worldly. I’m just an…ostentatious narcissist!
I get the hell out of there before I get scammed again.