Charlie Hopkins pulled his coat collar up and hunkered down in his big overcoat; trying to stave off the damp, miserable November night. It had been a slow day at his second hand car showroom. He wondered if at fifty seven he was getting too old for this game.
His whole day had been spent trying to palm off a car which on close inspection was only just roadworthy. A young lad who had just passed his test showed some interest. Charlie tried to tempt him further with a repayment scheme with so many clauses in Charlie's favour; only the most eagle eyed person could hope to notice them. It was only a slightly better deal than a loan from Wonga. However the youth came back with his father, who was a solicitor, so that was the end of the matter. No sale today. Oh well, thought Charlie, there's another day and another opportunity tomorrow.
To cheer himself up he went for a drink in a nearby bar called the Black Cat. He descended into the dimly lit bar, which was a bit seedy. The red carpet was threadbare in places and passed its best, as were some of the clientele. Charlie's eyes roamed around, and he found a seat at the bar.
He was feeling his age lately, and his confidence had taken a nose dive. It all started last week when two young men were looking at one of his cars. He overheard them saying they'd have to ask the old bald bloke about a test drive. Charlie knew a good salesman needed self assurance and confidence to be successful. So he took some drastic action.
Sitting at the bar he checked his reflection in the mirror. Admiring his latest purchase, he felt sure the toupee knocked years off his age. He had toyed with the idea of a gold earring too, for all of five seconds, before realising that this was a step too far.
As he tried to nonchalantly look round the bar he noticed an attractive blonde. She was alone and slowly finishing her drink. She looked up and caught his gaze; Charlie liked the look of her. He ordered himself a double scotch and asked the bartender what she was drinking; the barman said she was drinking a dirty martini. Charlie sent her another one over and sat back waiting to see if she'd accept it.
Amy had been sitting at the bar for around about an hour, slowly nursing her drink. So far no-one had elicited any interest from her. Then she looked over and saw a man who appeared to be around twenty years older than her. He was wearing a very obvious rug on his head and looked a little lonely. Just the type of man she liked to pick up in bars. She accepted his drink and went over to thank him. Charlie told her he was a very successful business man and went on to try and sell her a car; she thought that was very funny. They chatted for a while then Charlie excused himself to go to the gents, he was still self conscious about his hairpiece and wanted to check it hadn't slipped.
While he was away Amy took the opportunity to ask the barman not to put any alcohol in her drinks as she wanted to keep her wits about her. This arrangement pleased the barman as any difference in price could go straight into his pocket. Charlie returned and the evening went well, the conversation and alcohol flowed (well for Charlie it did). He managed to finish four double scotches, after this his evening had a soft, fuzzy glow about it.
Amy suggested they went back to his for a nightcap. She had to support him up the stairs as he was staggering a little. They hailed a cab as the weather had worsened and a terrific thunderstorm had started. When the taxi pulled up Amy bundled Charlie in and then said she had had second thoughts and instead of going home with him she would meet him again tomorrow night at the Black Cat. Charlie was so tipsy he didn't mind one way or the other, hiccoughing and smiling to himself in the back of the cab. When he got home he found he'd mislaid his wallet and credit cards, so he weaved his way indoors to get some money to pay the driver.
After a very busy day at work, Charlie set off to the Black Cat. When he arrived he checked at the bar but his wallet and credit card hadn't been handed in. He would have to ask Amy if she noticed what he had done with them. After half an hour he started to wonder if he had drunkenly muddled up what their arrangements were. Maybe she had left a message, he gesticulated to the barman, who as luck would have it was the same one as last night. He enquired if a message had been left for him.
Amy had not been in and no message had been left. However the barman said that a policeman had been in that afternoon with a photograph of a woman who looked just like Amy. She was described as predatory and a complete charlatan who had been touring the local pubs and clubs targeting older, lonely men. She would befriend them and lead them on a little before making off with their cash and credit cards. The bartender looked sadly at Charlie and suggested he contacted the police to explain he was a victim of a crime.
Charlie was crushed, he felt himself to be successful, not vulnerable and gullible enough to be taken in by such a scam. Maybe it was time to hang up his car keys, adjust his hairpiece and retire to a quiet seaside resort.