The Con Man
Jettie, Compound Security Guard - K9 Storm ID Harness (standard)
Est. Read Time: 5 Mins.
Sweat was dripping down the nape of my neck as the sun radiated on me from high above the Compound. After another honest day’s work on the roof with the rest of our crew, the day had come and passed and it was time to pack up and go home.
One of the most important tools we have isn’t a hammer or a drill, but an old yellow construction radio belting out tunes to help the working day go by. Sometimes we listen to rock, sometimes we listen to hits, but usually, and especially on hot days like today, we listen to anthems of the blue collar employee: country.
Work hard, play harder, love your family, drive a truck, and drink a beer. As the final words of Drinking Class washed over us, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one whose taste-buds started to tingle. The idea of cracking open an ice cold golden lager was more than tempting at this point.
After all, it was Friday, and we earned it.
We descended from the rooftop and went inside the Compound. After obtaining refuge from the sun, a figurative changing of the guard ensued. The Old Yellow Radio was put to rest and out popped an equally beat up looking Old Red Cooler. The familiar *tssst* of an alcoholic beverage being cracked open swiftly filled the room. It was now officially the weekend.
The Storm Through Anything™ Construction Crew
We laughed and chatted about our upcoming plans, enjoyed our drinks, and bid the rest of our crew farewell. We were just about to complete our final shut downs to make sure the building was closed before we went our separate ways. All that was left was my brother, Jeff, and the big boss, Jim, when it happened quicker than a flash of lightning.
In a blur, Jettie, our 80 lbs. Boxer/Shepherd mutt went streaking out of the loading door, barking like a demon possessed. His K9 Storm ID Harness, custom embroidered with SECURITY on the neck straps, leaves no doubt as to what his job is.
Protect. This. House.
In the blink of an eye, we see what Jettie is chasing. Running through the gated yard like an Olympic sprinter is a fellow of somewhat portly proportions. With Jettie gaining distance rapidly, the man reaches a large construction dumpster and scales it to the top more nimbly than Spider-Man himself.
Notice the Boxer under-bite? - K9 Storm ID Harness (standard)
Got ‘em.
Jettie was barking “treed” just like Old Dan and Little Ann hunting Raccoons in Where the Red Fern Grows.
Somewhat dumbfounded, we walk over to the dumpster and say to the man matter-of-factly, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”.
He pauses blankly, then collects himself and chuckles. With almost a half-chortle, he retorts, “Me? I go to construction sites all the time, people love to give me spare lumber. What are you doing here?”
Ah yes. The “Con”fidence Man. The calling card of a criminal doing something shady. Smooth talking, always with an explanation, ready to twist the facts to destroy and deceive for their own benefit at the expense of others.
“Listen buddy, you gotta leave. This is private property and you’re trespassing.” we say coldly.
But the man doesn’t leave. In fact, he doubles down and visibly starts scanning the Compound.
“Leave? Why?”, as he readjusts his body still hanging half-way into the dumpster, “I’m always welcome on construction sites…soooo what is it that you guys do here anyway?”
Alright. Ok. Sure.
Maybe the pylons and caution tape out front to prevent you from bringing your car into the compound wasn’t enough. Maybe the barbed wire fence enclosing the entire building was mistaken for friendliness. Maybe the multiple signs, clearly marked in English that no unauthorized entry into the gated compound was allowed were confusing. Maybe…just maybe, the guard dog was there for companionship and nothing else.
After all, this man still managed to forgo all the numerous warning signs and make the conscious decision to push open the unlocked gate that our co-workers left open upon their departure, literally 2 minutes prior. With that being said, I wanted to make sure that there would be no confusing my next message.
“Get the ***k out. Now.”
Dumpster at the Compound.
And just like that, the conversation changed entirely.
“Woah, woah, woah! Easy does it there, guy! All I wanted was to buy some scrap lumber! I’ve never been so deeply offended by anyone in my life.” he pauses just long enough to point a finger at us, “and I’ll have you know that nobody has ever treated me as poorly as you 3 have today!”
The man slunk down from the dumpster and slowly departed the premises. Jeff held onto the lay flat handle of Jettie’s ID Harness while he continued to frantically bark. Then the man got in his van, and with one arm hanging out the window, shouted back to us while tipping his hat like a cowboy, “Have a nice day, Gentlemen!”
I was heated. This guy literally broke into our gated Compound, was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and had the audacity to blame us for the way we treated him? Pardon me for not offering you the quintessential stealing experience that all other fine establishments around the city have been able to so effortlessly provide…
Jettie was rewarded immediately for his efforts with a few rounds of fetch with Jeff, while Jim and I closed up the rest of the shop. I couldn’t help but notice how nonchalant Jim had been throughout the whole experience. So I asked him, “you used to be a cop, how are you not as fired up about this as I am?”
“Who said I’m not fired up?” he said as he clicked the final lock shut on the gate of the Compound, “I dealt with crap like this for over 20 years on the job. If I’ve seen it once, I’ve seen it a million times. Every criminal always has a good excuse for doing something they shouldn’t be doing. But crime is just that. Crime. Nobody cares about it until it happens, and everyone turns into a Con Man when they get caught.”