HELP WANTED

We’re All Suckers

By Randy Harward, 2-26-06

At first blush, signs like this are hilarious. Some moron signed up for a get-rich-quick "opportunity" that involves suckering other morons--er, apprentices--into the same rare prospect. Only he actually believes he's about to commit a not-so-random act of magnanimity by sharing his sage wisdom and secret to financial independence (that he acquired yestereday for a one-time payment of say, $300). Our well-intentioned idiot buys a magic marker, poster board and posts. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, carefully letters this sign. Thinking locationlocationlocation, the guy prowls the city looking for prime space and chooses the least busy, least visible corner of a T-intersection. The line baited, he sits back and waits for the money to roll in.

What a dumbass, right? What serious investor finds an "apprentice" through a crude, handwritten street sign? Pitiful.

Even more pitiful is that some sap, driving home from another satisfying day of drudgery, sees the sign for the fifth time that week. He finally gives in, whips out his cell phone and dials the number, hoping to reach the president of Moneyland in the country of Couchpotatoia. He's ready to play Grasshopper to this guy's Master and learn the everything he needs to know to make sense of the world--and maybe buy a Hummer, an HDTV, a mail-order bride and some insta-kids (just add water). There's no answer, but he leaves a message and presses "End," enjoying the visceral tickle of anticipation as he awaits a call back. It comes quickly, just as the garage door is opening. He thinks it's because he sounded sharp and eager in his message. Really, it's because someone else on the other end had just put out a sign and was coping with his own butterflies as they evolved into a nervous bowel (Was he suckered? Would this really work?). The two chumps speak of the wonder of the opportunity and express their eagerness to work together. Money changes hands. Signs are posted.

Meanwhile, a few rungs up the ladder, the facade is crumbling as people complain of unacceptable returns. They're temporarily placated, held at bay by a line of bull-wisdom that they repeat downhill to soothe their themselves and their apprentices. Everyone except the guy at the top eventually realizes they've been had, and commence defensive rationalization (they waited too long to take advantage of the opportunity). The magic markers, the poster board and posts are taken to the basement and set next to crates of Melaleuca and Quixtar product, clamshell motivational cassette series and three-ring binders with seminar notes. There it will sit until the sum of these experiences and items produces an epiphany in one of these guys and he gets his own 877 number and starts making signs, knowing they'll lead to a cool 300 bucks apiece from a pool of desperate, soon-to-be broken souls.

We all know people who've come close to or actually been suckered by these scams. They're not just acquaintances or the token idiots in our circle of friends. Sometimes they're our family members; sometimes they're us. And isn't it sad to know that we even briefly entertained or actually enlisted in such an obviously impotent opportunity in hopes it would solve all our problems? What a bunch of dumbasses.

Don't pass up a chance to learn from the master" was what I thought when I first saw this artful solicitation. I was laughing at the time. Now, it's not so funny--but it still rings true.

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