The hungry baby scam is vary common. Today in Europe, the Mendicant's Guild (probably not the real name, but what I will call Gypsie-run criminal organizations. Picture the Hell's Angels but with slavery and child abuse) actually rents out babies by the day as props for professional beggars. They are kept drugged on cough syrup or heroin to make them lie still and not cry for the duration of the beggar's work shift. The best beggars typically earn €1000 or more per day doing this. I am not making this up. I mean, even I have seen the scam first hand.
That reminded me of this one time in South America, this scrawny emaciated girl accosted me in Spanish and asked for money for her baby. She said her baby was hongry. The beggar woman was skin and bones herself. She stood around 5 feet tall and looked like she'd been in a concentration camp with her sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, etc. She couldn't weigh more than 50 pounds. She said she was 18 years old, looking at her, I knew she had some kind of problem. I was in a poor country, after all, where there is no social safety net. People really starve to death there. I didn't really believe that she was skinny for lack of money, but I was curious to find out.
I went into a mercado-mart grocery store and bought her a carton of milk and some bread or somethign for her. The next morning, I saw her begging outside of the hostel where I was staying. I asked about her baby, and she said "What? oh yeah, he is OK, come to my house and i will show you." This was all in Spanish, and I had learned Spanish on the fly - I had memorized a list of words and phrases on the airplane that took me there. So basically, I was doing a lot of guessing. Anyway, she looked very happy to see me, smiling and wide eyed. Her whole body vibrated with enthusiasm. Even the extreme dilation of her pupils suggested excitement. She grabbed me by the hand, and very excitedly led me to her house about 100 yards away down an alley. It was actually a motel rooM. I asked about the baby, and she pulled out a bag of cocaine.
In college, I used to enjoy injecting cocaine and even liked to mix it with heroin, but since college, I limit my cocaine use to once a year out of caution and I've lost interest. Heavy use is hard on the body. That and a lot of people seem to let it ruin their lives.
We started doing lines. That was the most pure yayo as she was calling it (Spanish for cocaine) I have ever had. Then she pulled off her shirt. In college, this guy I sometimes shot coke with used to take his pants off after his first shot. No idea why, but it didn't seem sexual. Without a shirt, her body was shockingly emaciated. Her body was like sticks held together with tight skin. I could see the ribs, arm bones, and everything else. Her stomach was sunken concave, and she had the chest of a five year old boy. Not my thing, but we kept doing coke.
We must have done a gram each within a few minutes, and I couldn't feel my face. My tongue was so numb from the drip, i could barely speak. Then this behemoth of a woman waddles out of the bath room and starts talking about prices. She was so fat taht I had a good idea who really ate the food I had bought the night before.
The coke is $20 a gram. The skeletal girl is $50. Then she makes me a cup of coffee. I took a sip. I really didn't want coffee after that coke, but i drink coffee every day and it's a habit so I took a sip. If it's in front of me, i drink it even if I don't crave it. Kind of like cocaine.
Why would somebody make you a cup of coffee when you already have cocaine? She seemed kind of eager that I drink it. I had heard the urban legend about the tourist who goes to a bar in Tiajuana or someplace in Mexico. He meets some friendly people who offer him drinks and get him drunk. Then he blacks out. He wakes up the next day in a bath tub full of ice with note pinned to his chest saying that he needs to go to a hospital because his kidney has been removed. Maybe it was only cocaine induced paranoia, but I jumped up and ran out the door. Skeleton Girl and Jaba the Slut ran outside after me and said she needed money for food for her baby and pay for the coke, etc
I didn't tell that story to my boss, but I said I would be careful. The morning air was chilly but fresh and clean from the rain. We arrived at Metro Luxembourg gate. The entrance is a big downward staircase beyond an open gate on the side walk. Above the gate is a wrought iron sign lettered METRO. The style of the lettering, all of this, looked very sinister. The script looked the same as that of Arbeit Macht Frei, the sign above the gate that leads into Dachau concentration camp. Or maybe Gateway to Hell would have been more appropriate.
That reminded me of this one time in South America, this scrawny emaciated girl accosted me in Spanish and asked for money for her baby. She said her baby was hongry. The beggar woman was skin and bones herself. She stood around 5 feet tall and looked like she'd been in a concentration camp with her sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, etc. She couldn't weigh more than 50 pounds. She said she was 18 years old, looking at her, I knew she had some kind of problem. I was in a poor country, after all, where there is no social safety net. People really starve to death there. I didn't really believe that she was skinny for lack of money, but I was curious to find out.
I went into a mercado-mart grocery store and bought her a carton of milk and some bread or somethign for her. The next morning, I saw her begging outside of the hostel where I was staying. I asked about her baby, and she said "What? oh yeah, he is OK, come to my house and i will show you." This was all in Spanish, and I had learned Spanish on the fly - I had memorized a list of words and phrases on the airplane that took me there. So basically, I was doing a lot of guessing. Anyway, she looked very happy to see me, smiling and wide eyed. Her whole body vibrated with enthusiasm. Even the extreme dilation of her pupils suggested excitement. She grabbed me by the hand, and very excitedly led me to her house about 100 yards away down an alley. It was actually a motel rooM. I asked about the baby, and she pulled out a bag of cocaine.
In college, I used to enjoy injecting cocaine and even liked to mix it with heroin, but since college, I limit my cocaine use to once a year out of caution and I've lost interest. Heavy use is hard on the body. That and a lot of people seem to let it ruin their lives.
We started doing lines. That was the most pure yayo as she was calling it (Spanish for cocaine) I have ever had. Then she pulled off her shirt. In college, this guy I sometimes shot coke with used to take his pants off after his first shot. No idea why, but it didn't seem sexual. Without a shirt, her body was shockingly emaciated. Her body was like sticks held together with tight skin. I could see the ribs, arm bones, and everything else. Her stomach was sunken concave, and she had the chest of a five year old boy. Not my thing, but we kept doing coke.
We must have done a gram each within a few minutes, and I couldn't feel my face. My tongue was so numb from the drip, i could barely speak. Then this behemoth of a woman waddles out of the bath room and starts talking about prices. She was so fat taht I had a good idea who really ate the food I had bought the night before.
The coke is $20 a gram. The skeletal girl is $50. Then she makes me a cup of coffee. I took a sip. I really didn't want coffee after that coke, but i drink coffee every day and it's a habit so I took a sip. If it's in front of me, i drink it even if I don't crave it. Kind of like cocaine.
Why would somebody make you a cup of coffee when you already have cocaine? She seemed kind of eager that I drink it. I had heard the urban legend about the tourist who goes to a bar in Tiajuana or someplace in Mexico. He meets some friendly people who offer him drinks and get him drunk. Then he blacks out. He wakes up the next day in a bath tub full of ice with note pinned to his chest saying that he needs to go to a hospital because his kidney has been removed. Maybe it was only cocaine induced paranoia, but I jumped up and ran out the door. Skeleton Girl and Jaba the Slut ran outside after me and said she needed money for food for her baby and pay for the coke, etc
I didn't tell that story to my boss, but I said I would be careful. The morning air was chilly but fresh and clean from the rain. We arrived at Metro Luxembourg gate. The entrance is a big downward staircase beyond an open gate on the side walk. Above the gate is a wrought iron sign lettered METRO. The style of the lettering, all of this, looked very sinister. The script looked the same as that of Arbeit Macht Frei, the sign above the gate that leads into Dachau concentration camp. Or maybe Gateway to Hell would have been more appropriate.