Im a pensioner while I was selling bagels, someone tried to scam me.
Im standing at my bagel stall right on the corner where Im every day when two men approach me. Dressed sharply. Suits, ties, a leather briefcase. The sort who look like managers, but even from a distance theres something a bit off in their eyes.
Good morning, madam, says one of them with that salesmans grin the type that sells you a story and then wishes you a nice day. Are you the owner of this stall?
Yes, love. Shall I put you down for a couple of fresh bagels? Theyve just come out, still piping hot.
No, thats not why were here. Your stall is in a high-profile trading spot and you need to sort out your paperwork.
Thats when my alarm bells start ringing. But I put on my best innocent act.
Oh, my dear, sort it out I can barely sort my blood sugar, let alone paperwork. Diabetes, high blood pressure, and just last week they told me my cholesterols through the roof. Have you got cholesterol? Because I do, and I can tell you what tablets they gave me…
Madam, you just need to sign here… he tries to interrupt me.
Oh, dont be like that, its rude to interrupt an old lady. Now, as I was saying those tablets have puffed me up like a parade balloon. And my daughter, poor thing, is going through a divorce Her bloke turned out to be a good-for-nothing, just like my late husband God rest his soul though he was just the same when he was alive
The other chap is getting twitchy now, shuffling some papers.
Madam, this is about a fine of five thousand pounds and
Five thousand?! Oh, love, I can barely scrape the rent together. Have you seen the price of gas? And electricity? My grandson, the youngest wants to be a vet one day, though hes still at school tells me: Nan, dont run the immersion heater so much. But at my age, I need hot water or my joints will seize
Please, just listen
No, you listen to me. Do you know what its like to sell bagels at 68? My pension doesnt even cover the medicine. My arthritis? Knees, hands, neck sometimes I cant sleep for pain. Still, Im out here every day: rain, snow, or shine. If I dont show up, I dont eat. Now you want me to pay five thousand? I might as well fall down here now and give you a proper problem.
They exchange glances, looking a bit flustered.
We could maybe arrange a payment plan
Payment plan? Ive got a payment plan with the bank, with the chemist, with the grocer even with my neighbour, for my tooth. Do you know how much a tooth costs? Three thousand pounds and thats with an NHS dentist!
One of them already starts packing up his papers.
Hang on, I havent finished. My sisters on dialysis, you know. Three times a week, four hours each. Its agony. The NHS doesnt cover everything. The brothers and sisters, we all chip in. I put in £100 a month from my bagel money. And now a fine? For what? Ive got all my paperwork sorted. Ive got council permission, Im registered, I pay my tax not much, because I dont earn much. Even got my NHS card. Need to see it?
I pulled out my purse stuffed with various documents.
Here! My permits valid till next year. Stamped and signed. And which department did you say you were from?
They start stepping back.
Oh, you didnt? Funny, that. Because I may be a pensioner, but Im not daft. Before I started selling bagels, I worked for the council 35 years in the permits office, actually. I know exactly who can ask for what. A real inspector doesnt turn up in a cheap suit, and they never ask for cash, without a receipt.
And another thing theres a CCTV camera on the corner. And my son-in-laws a copper. He sorted this pitch for me because its safe. Want me to give him a ring? Hes on patrol two streets over.
They all but ran at that point.
No, madam, just a misunderstanding
Take a couple of bagels for the road! I called after them. See, Im not one to hold a grudge!
One of my regulars was wiping away tears of laughter.
You kept them hanging for half an hour!
You know, half of it was rubbish. I dont have diabetes, my daughters just fine, and my sisters as fit as a fiddle. But those scammers think if youre old and poor, you must be stupid.
What about the copper son-in-law?
Hes real. So is the camera. And the paperwork most of all. Because being poor is one thing being foolish is another. I sell bagels because pensions are a joke, not because I cant do sums.
I packed up the usual bagels, added a touch more sugar, and carried on for the day.
So, what do you think does poverty make you vulnerable, or does life experience and a bit of nous always beat the fanciest degree?
