Conned
swiftyisNOTevil writes, "I have recently become obsessed with the BBC Three show 'The Real Hustle' - personally, I think of it as a 'How To' show for aspiring con artists."
Have you carried out a successful con? Perhaps you hustled a few quid off a stranger, or defrauded a multi-national company. Or have you been taken for the wide-eyed, naive rube that you are?
( , Thu 18 Oct 2007, 13:02)
swiftyisNOTevil writes, "I have recently become obsessed with the BBC Three show 'The Real Hustle' - personally, I think of it as a 'How To' show for aspiring con artists."
Have you carried out a successful con? Perhaps you hustled a few quid off a stranger, or defrauded a multi-national company. Or have you been taken for the wide-eyed, naive rube that you are?
( , Thu 18 Oct 2007, 13:02)
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Another tale of alcoholic begger wreckage
Me and the same flatmate from the train saga below were having a night out in Liverpool. As you may have gathered from our inability to shake off a lonely old man who wanted nothing more than to hang out with us in the wee small hours, we're both total cowards, and hate the idea of confrontation or upsetting people. This was the reason we spent almost an hour in the surprisingly roomy gents toilets in the basement bar of an irish pub whose name I've forgotten, for fear of the woman upstairs in the main bar who was sat by the door waiting to speak to us again because she thought we were going to give her her 'bus fare home'.
The more I think about it, I've got tons of stories like this. It's all because I'm too nice to shake them off. I won't post any more though.
( , Fri 19 Oct 2007, 4:25, Reply)
Me and the same flatmate from the train saga below were having a night out in Liverpool. As you may have gathered from our inability to shake off a lonely old man who wanted nothing more than to hang out with us in the wee small hours, we're both total cowards, and hate the idea of confrontation or upsetting people. This was the reason we spent almost an hour in the surprisingly roomy gents toilets in the basement bar of an irish pub whose name I've forgotten, for fear of the woman upstairs in the main bar who was sat by the door waiting to speak to us again because she thought we were going to give her her 'bus fare home'.
The more I think about it, I've got tons of stories like this. It's all because I'm too nice to shake them off. I won't post any more though.
( , Fri 19 Oct 2007, 4:25, Reply)
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