Money for the Kafe

2003

It's Thursday, I just got home from work. I've got to unload a small bag of groceries and get the young one set up with a snack to start his homework. The dogs are doing their pee pee dance and the phone is ringing. I dart to the back door and let the dogs out, then run to the phone. It's my father. "Hey yeah Stac, how can I send money to Nigeria?" Oh this is gonna be a good one, I can tell. "Dad, do you mean Nigeria as in - Africa?" Complete silence. I know he is there because I can hear him breathing. "Dad?" I can hear papers rustling in the background. He's mumbling "Africa, Africa, I don't know. I don't know where the hell it is!" "OK Dad well, I'm pretty sure that Nigeria is in Africa. Why do you need to send money to Nigeria?" I really don't want to know the answer to this question. My experience tells me that this is another one of those things that isn't going to make any sense. This is going to be another trip down crazy Ray lane. "Well, it's my girl. She needs money. She goes to the kafe (correctly pronounced café) to talk with me and it costs her money. She is a real looker and I don't want to lose this one." I tell my father that I'm sort of in the middle of a few hundred things at the moment, but as soon as Lee gets home I'll have him give him a call and he can help him figure this out.

Lee calls my father later in the evening and promises to drive over this weekend to discuss this matter and to read these emails that he has gotten from "his girl".

TGIF, it has been a long week! I'm home a little early and thinking about the bottle of wine in the kitchen. Is it red or white and will it be yummy with pizza? Every Friday is Lee's day to cook which means it's Pizza night, which we both look forward to at the end of our busy weeks. The dogs are out back and I'm thumbing through the mail, the answering machine is flashing. I hit the button. "Stac, I hate those Goddamn people at Webster bank. They're stealing my money!" BEEEEEP Ok here we go again. I reluctantly dial up my father. After several minutes of insults and accusations against the bank he has gone to for years, I learn that he is angry with one of the tellers for refusing to wire money to Nigeria. I remind him that Lee is going to help him with this on Saturday and he bellows "I can't sit around and wait for YOU people, she needs the money NOW!" I tell my father that Lee and I have been very busy this week and will be over on Saturday as promised.

Damage control. I call the bank, explain who I am and immediately the woman on the other end of the phone knows exactly what I am calling about. Apparently my father caused quite a scene in the bank that morning. The bank manager tried to explain the situation to him as politely as she could. The manager informs me that it is illegal to wire any money to that country. She is also very concerned that my father is being taken advantage of and someone should be looking after him. I apologize for any inconvenience and thank her for her time and concern.

On Saturday Lee and I go to my father's house. He is still quite upset with the bank, after all, it is his money and he should be able to do whatever he "Goddamn wants with it." We listen to him plead his case. I tell my father that this matter is not under the banks control, that it would be a violation of the government. He still does not understand and continues to get angry. He has a piece of paper that he shows to Lee with the name of a bank in Nigeria and an account number. His "girlfriend" has to walk to this bank and is checking it on a regular basis because she needs the money for the kafe.

Lee tells my father that many times people try to take advantage of other people. In fact when chatting on the Internet it is difficult to be certain who you are chatting with. Lee suggests that his "girlfriend" might be a very rich man smoking a cigar, sitting in his underwear and telling this story to many people, all who keep sending him money! My father will not be swayed. His "girlfriend" has told him that she was able to find a Western Union for him down at the local grocery store here in Terryton. (What a clever woman she is!) He has already been down to the store, but there are several forms to choose form and he is not sure what form to use. In truth, even if someone told him what form to use, my father could not even complete the form without assistance. Dad wants Lee to go back with him and help him wire his $200.00, which he proudly displays.

Lee and I both know that this is a scam. We also know that refusing to help my father will lead to further incidents in the community. Lee drives my father down to the grocery store and fortunately the store is experiencing technical difficulties and they are unable to wire the money at that moment. Lee and Dad return to the house with two forms. The one they completed and a blank form for future use. FOR FUTURE USE!?? I am glaring at my husband, who sits calmly and smiles. My father is much more relaxed and I try again to talk to him about internet scams. It is clear he is annoyed with me and now that we have served our purpose he is ready for us to leave.

When we get in the car I ask my husband why he is encouraging this behavior. I yell, "TWO FORMS?? SO he can go ahead and do this again, what are you thinking!?" With a smile Lee produces the completed form and gives it to me. My husband has a plan. When my father can not locate the completed form he will believe that he has misplaced it. He will then be unable to fill out the blank form however he will never admit to it.

Sure enough, within hours dad is calling asking Lee where he put the form they filled out at the store. Lee reminds him that all the paper work was put on the counter in the kitchen. He asks dad if he brought it upstairs by the computer, and Dad thinks he might have. He will keep looking. Lee tells him that if he can't find it, then he can just fill out the blank form. Dad agrees that is a good idea.

A few days go by and Dad is at the house for dinner. We ask about his girlfriend and if she got the money OK. He hangs his head, and says that he thinks Lee was right all along about it being a scam. She told him that he was taking too long to send the money and she couldn't keep waiting for it so the instant messages stopped coming. He points to his pocket and is happy he still has his $200.00.

The Canadian Connection

2003

My father has been exchanging emails with a woman from Canada. Her name is Betty. She is in her 60's and is still housing her two grown boys in an apartment. Dad has been talking about Betty for two months now. Since his last fiasco with Ying he has been a little more cautious. I haven't been paying as much attention to him as I should these days. The theater group I perform with is preparing for the annual Christmas show. I've got the two boys with their schedules, a husband that travels and my own full time job. I've been busy.

The Christmas show is a big event in our house. It is held every year the first weekend in December. For my family it is the kick-off of the Christmas season. For me, the madness of rehearsals end and the Christmas shopping madness begins! My father listens to the chatter about the show, but he has never attended. When my mother was alive she would try and get him to come along. He could never be bothered. He doesn't like crowds nor people in general, unless of course they are young attractive women.

Two weeks before the show my father is sitting at our kitchen table eating dinner with us. He announces that he has invited Betty to come and see the Christmas show. Lee begins asking him logical questions, "How will she get here?" "Where is she going to stay?" "What is her last name?" "Do you know where in Canada she lives?" Needless to say, he doesn't know the answer to any of these questions, but he writes them down on a piece of paper.

The next evening he arrives at our house, again for dinner, and pulls out the piece of paper with all the answers and her telephone number. Next he pulls out his credit card and urges Lee to make the travel arrangements. After dinner Lee has Dad call Betty on the phone. Dad talks to her briefly and hands the phone over to Lee. Within an hour, at my father's insistence, travel arrangements are made. She is flying in the Wednesday before the show and leaving the following Monday. I am the lucky winner of "airport pick-up and drop-off!"

Before you know it, that fateful Wednesday evening has arrived. I drive to Dads house to pick him up and………he won't go. "I don't like airports, they make me nervous." I look at him and want to pull that rug off his head and throw it out into the snowy darkness. After my fruitless attempts at coaxing him into the car, I leave on my solo one hour drive to the airport to pick up a woman I have never seen. My father's parting words to me were, "I hope she's not fat!"

It's winter, it's New England and it is COLD! I am just as bitter as the air I breathe. How in the world do I get into these bizarre situations? The drive is long and I have a rehearsal tomorrow evening, this is insane!

I arrive. I park. I enter the terminal, the flight is on time. I'm watching people come through the door. Young people, old people, skinny people and fat people. At long last a woman emerges scanning the faces of strangers. I walk up to her, "You must be Betty." "Yes, yes, you must be Stacey, I've heard so much about you, thank you so much for picking me up. Where is Ray?" I explain that my father tries to avoid crowds and is at home anxiously awaiting her company. I help her gather her belongings and off we go headed for Terryton.

Betty seems to be a lovely woman. We have pleasant conversation. She asks many questions about Connecticut and life in New England. On the way we stop off at the theater and I check on my things in the dressing room. She is very excited about seeing the show this weekend and tells me that my father talks about it all the time. I find this mildly amusing since my father has never shown any interest in the past. I think this was just a good excuse to lour a woman here for a little hanky panky. However Betty is not the type of person my father will be at all interested in. She is a bit over weight and walks slowly. This should prove to be very interesting.

When we get to the house, I help Betty with her bags. My father just stands and watches. It is uncomfortable. I can see a look of disgust on his face. I ask Dad where we should put the luggage and he says "In the bedroom I guess. I'll be sleeping in the room upstairs, put that stuff in the room down here." Betty and I carry the bags down the hall. She puts her coat on the bed and follows me to the kitchen. She goes over and hugs my father and says "It's so nice to finally meet you!" My father responds, "Well there is a lot more of you than I thought there would be!" Betty laughs and tells him that we stopped by the theater and how exciting her trip was. I sit with them for a half hour and they seem to have gotten over the awkwardness of the situation.

As always the show was a great success and a good time was had by all. I wasn't exactly sure if my father and his "date" attended, however Lee saw them sitting in the back of the theater nearest the exit.

The Monday morning that Betty is scheduled to leave there is an ice storm. School is delayed. At 5:30 am my phone is ringing and it is my father. "We will be right over." I tell him, "Dad wait, it is dangerous out, let me check on the status of her flight, I am sure it has been delayed. I'll call you back in 30 minutes." I get up, start the coffee, check on the flight, it is on time. I'm just about to pick up the phone when the door bell rings. Now the dogs are barking and running up and down the hallway like maniac's. Great! I open the door holding the dogs back, and in walks my father, Betty in tow carrying her bags.

Dad announces "Well, we're ready!" Betty can see that she is no longer wanted. I am sure that she figured that out well before this morning. I feel very sorry for this woman. Lord knows how he treated her over the last four days. I sit them both down with coffee and head upstairs to get dressed and get the kids up.

I get my teenager out the door for school. My younger one will have to miss school for the day because I have to start the drive to the airport early due to the weather conditions. Once we get to the airport we learn that the flight has been delayed for an hour. I tell Betty that we will wait until the plane comes in and she says that she will be fine alone. Without a word, my father is headed for the door waving to her "See ya!" Betty leans over and whispers to me "He told me I'm fat!" I apologize for his behavior and give her a hug.

Once we are in the car my father complains that the ride here was the longest ride of his life. "I didn't think I would ever get rid of her. Did you see the size of her!?" I am left speechless. He does not utter a thank you for the total of four hours I have spent driving back and forth to the airport. He does not an offer to fill my gas tank. Just ranting and raving. Once I collect myself I tell him, "Dad, I will never ever put myself or another woman through this kind of torture again. You have been rude to Betty. Calling people fat is not nice. In the future you will have to find other people to make travel arrangements for you and to be a chauffeur." He mumbles a few insults at me, laughs and looks out the window. He remains silent for the rest of the ride home.

Betty sent me an email once she arrived home. She wrote a few things about her visit with my father. She said that he had taken her out one afternoon to see the sites of Terryton (which there are none of) and he got them lost. She says she could tell that his memory is not very good. When he called her fat, she did point out to him that he had a rather large pot belly and he got a mad and didn't talk for a while. Somehow she was able to excuse his rudeness and brushed it off to being old.