Nick Jimenez

Sunday, April 9, 2000

Sob story gets great mileage

Perhaps you've heard this story. I know I have. Several times in fact in the past couple of months.
   A person on foot approaches you, perhaps with a gasoline can in hand, and asks for a little help.
   All the person needs is a couple of dollars, maybe even one dollar, for gasoline. He's run out of gas, or they're from out of town and all they need is a few bucks to buy gas to get to where they're going.
   The first time this happened, I thought, boy, we have a new con game going.
   The vehicle for the stranger is never in sight. It's always just a couple of blocks away.
   And they don't ask for money to fill the tank. Just a couple of dollars, or maybe even just a dollar or whatever change you have in your pocket.
   Either I look like a real soft touch or the panhandlers have hit on a sob story that has reaped unimaginable success or there's an epidemic of empty gas tanks.
   Or just maybe someone is in trouble, someone down on his luck who needs just a little bit of help and I'm the one who has been placed in his path.
   The first time I heard the story I was coming out of a mall and a scruffy-looking man came up to me and said he had run out of gas. He said he was from out of town and needed just a few bucks to help him out.
   I waved him off and told him I didn't carry cash.
   Which was almost true.
   The next time a young black woman came up to me and said her car had run out of gas. Could I spare just a few dollars?
   It was at night and I was in a hurry. She kept on walking, who knows where.
   Like most people, I am the product of a cynical age. We are all wary of being duped, of being taken.
   But just how cynical do we have to be? How are we to tell between the cons and the real pleas for help?
   Of course, sometimes it's not too hard to tell. A man came up to me at a service station carrying a gas can and a long electric extension cord. He didn't want a handout; he wants to deal.
   He, too, needs a few bucks to buy a gallon or two for his car that is a few blocks away. He wants to sell the extension cord for the gas money. I don't need an extension cord, but I will buy a few gallons of gas to put in the can.
   No, that's not to his liking. A can full of gas, he said, would be too heavy to carry.
   In the end, it's no sale.
   My latest encounter with the gas story was at a car wash. A man comes up and says he's from out of town. He and his family are on their way to a funeral. A relative has unexpectedly died. And they ran out of gas.
   The Rev. Ed Seeger of Metro Ministries says there is only way to be sure that the needy are not lost among the con men. "When all those hungry mouths in the nest open up, feed them all." But he doesn't advise that. Like most of us, he is as wary of suspicious sob stories as the next guy.
   Many years ago, when I was young and my paycheck consisted of just a few bucks, I ran out of gas along a country road. It was late at night. A convenience store I had counted on to be open was closed. There were only a few houses around and one had a porch light on. Having no other recourse, I knocked on the door.
   A man came to the door and I told him my story. Could he take me to the main highway where I could buy some gas? The man apologized but said his truck was broken. But he could help me, he said. In a matter of minutes, he had gotten underneath his truck - it really was broken - and emptied out a few gallons of gas from the tank. Together, we poured the fuel into my car.
   At the car wash, I knew I had a few bucks in the glove compartment, although I knew I could easily tell the man that I had spent it all.
   Maybe there was a family in the midst of grief, waiting for gas to get on their way. Maybe it was all a con game.
   If it was a con game, the man's cohorts would all get a laugh and have a few beers with my money.
   But if I turned this man down, what would it say about me?
   (Nick Jimenez can be reached at 886-3787 or by email at jimenezn@caller.com.)
  

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