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“With the year 2000 approaching,
banks are facing serious computer problems,” Frankie said to
himself, practicing his pitch. “The minute the clock strikes
midnight, a computer glitch could destroy everything. You could
lose all of your money in an instant.”
Yep, he had the routine down pat.
After scheming money from the senior citizens in the poorer section
of town, he was ready to hit the fancy part of the neighborhood.
Frankie chuckled. By New Year's Day, his bankroll would be booming.
He'd become the “Millennium Millionaire.”
He walked along the sidewalk, leaving
the one-story homes with broken gates in the dust. The houses grew
larger and more elegant. He stopped in front of a two-story brick
home with a white picket fence and a manicured lawn.
An elderly woman was fussing with
the potted plants on her porch. Frankie smiled. Pay dirt! He walked
up the pathway, and when he reached the porch, Frankie introduced
himself as “Francis Murphy.” Then, he started into his
pitch.
“I've been reading all about
those computer scares in the paper,” the elderly woman said
as she leaned against the wooden post on her porch. Her large diamond
ring sparkled in the sunlight. “It is rather scary, but the
bank has assured me my money will be safe.”
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“Ma'am,
you can't trust the bank,” Frankie said. “They don't know
what's going to happen when the clock strikes midnight. In fact, no
one does.” He shook his head, trying to appear concerned. “It
could even lead to another Depression. That's why it's so important
to protect yourself, and your money.”
“These computer issues can get
confusing,” the woman said. “My husband, Ronald, rest his
soul, used to handle our finances. We never worried about computers
back then. We wrote down all of our transactions. Oh, we weren't millionaires,
but we did save up quiet a nice little nest egg.”
“Wouldn't it be a shame to lose
everything you and your husband worked so hard for?” Frankie
asked.
“Indeed it would.” The woman
sighed. “With Ronald gone, I handle all the money now. My daughter
used to help out, but she just got a new job. She's really excited
about it. But she keeps such crazy hours, I hardly ever see her anymore.
I'm so proud of her...”
Frankie barely listened, he was used
to the rambling. The people he dealt with always had one kind of story
or another. Feigning sympathy, he reached out and touched her hand.
“Let me help you, Ms. ...”
“Kenney. Rita Kenney.” |
