Urban Intrigue

Our assignation spot?  The bananas at Trader Joe’s.  The purpose?  Exchange of money for goods – and I’m not talking bananas.  The other person?  All I knew was the name – Sam - and the gender - male.  Age, race, religion, education, profession, address – all insignificant.  What he had was $50 and I wanted it.  Why?  I wanted to get back some of the money I had wasted trying to get good Internet connection. 

My Internet continues to work well but I am now left with the stuff I used prior to Comcast.  I had rented a USB modem from Clear but upgraded (and purchased for $100) their “Hot Spot” model the day after Christmas.  It sat on my windowsill for all of 3 weeks before I gave up and turned to Comcast.  Could I recoup some of my costs?  

Craig’s List to the rescue.  Last October I bought a brass twin bed for my attic guest room/office and that had gone well.  Stephanie was a little concerned when I told her I was driving to a stranger’s house to pick it up.  What did I know about the seller?  How safe was the neighborhood?  I really should consider taking someone with me – hadn’t I heard stories about things that happened to unsuspecting Craigslisters?  Well, yes I had but the seller was a woman, she seemed nice, it was her mother’s bed after all, and it was in an upscale neighborhood in SE Portland.  I told Stephanie I’d call her when I got home to let her know all was well.  It was and I did.  So here I was, ready to get involved with Craig’s List again but this time I was the seller and, now that I live urban, I am told I need to be careful about where such exchanges take place.  Certainly not from my home.  Dan suggested a local Starbucks.

But first I had to write the ad.  I went onto Craig’s List, read comparable ads, noted how they framed photos of their stuff, took a photo of my modem, transferred it to my computer and set up the ad.  This took about an hour.  When satisfied, I clicked “Publish” and went online to see my ad in all its glory.  I got my first response 17 minutes later – it was Sam.  He owned a similar Clear modem but it had broken so he was interested in mine.  We discussed Clear and reception issues, agreed we wanted to make the exchange and were both free in about an hour – but where to meet?  The local Starbucks would close right about that time so that was out.  What was in the public eye?  Safe?  Well lit?  Don’t ask me how I came up with the bananas at the local Trader Joe’s but it was what popped into my mind.  He was a bit startled – bananas?  Yes, I said, bananas.   In my mind it met several criteria.  It was away from the cashier lines so we wouldn’t be noticed, it was in an area that allowed for an easy flow of traffic, and how could anybody get hurt around bananas, aside from slipping on them? 

I got there first.   I had time so slowly filled my basket with things near the bananas – I wasn’t moving from the area.  I studied anyone who approached – bananas are actually quite popular.  At one point, a member of the staff asked if I needed anything as I stood there, ever so casually, with my Clear green and white box held nonchalantly in my hand.  “No,” I said, “I'm fine.”  After 15 minutes I gave up, Sam wasn’t coming; I had wasted my time.  I took my basket up to the cashier.  It was while I was putting the change in my pocket that I noticed a man with no basket (looking quite Sam-ish in my opinion) by the bananas.  I waved my Clear box when he looked my way.  He nodded.  Yes, it was Sam.  I walked over, we shook hands, examined the product and then, finally, exchanged money for modem - right there in the open.  We were doing nothing the bananas couldn’t witness.  I put the cash in my pocket, drove home and called Stephanie to let her know all was well.

An hour later Sam called.  He needed the name I had given my wireless network and the password so he could set it up on his computer.  Hmmmmm – a password?  Everything you read tells you to never give out password and account information.  I mentally reviewed the situation.  The network name is not the account name and the password will only open the network – it doesn’t get into my information.  Then I remembered what I had named it - there was no way I was coming out of this with dignity intact. The good news is that I have never used the account name before and never would in the future.  The bad news is that my children had set the name up when they were here at Christmas and thought their choice was hysterical – a reference to a family nickname and event.  Get ready:  Snot Face Broke the Horse Statue.  I mentally groaned as I announced the name to Sam and then slowly spelled it out.  Understandably there was silence on the other end.  In some ways I wish I could have seen his face – this name and a meeting at bananas? 

I also gave him the password – only used for one other thing, which was not financial – but then I started to worry.  What if somehow this COULD provide access to account information?  What if Sam was a 55ish year old identify theft expert?  What if, even now, my info was being collected and used for nefarious reasons?  Even though I doubted it, I did something I have been meaning to do for a long time.  I went in and changed the passwords and account names on all my accounts.  That took another 2 hours but I felt better afterwards.  Of course it begs the question was all this effort worth $50?  As far as loss of dignity, well, Portland is big.  The chances of running into Sam are negligible.  Of course, perhaps he has a blog and is, right this minute, writing about a crazy woman he met at the bananas in Trader Joe’s.  Ah, dignity - overrated.