First of all, here is the picture of the carnie who conned and ripped off my daughter. He is an asshole and the whole world should know it. I have made sure that he has been identified to all my fairgoing friends and everytime I see someone ready to play, I ask if the player has read the rules. I cant do anything to get my kid her money back. I just take it out in pain and suffering on the guy who hurt her. Hopefully that $5 he stole from her will go a long way toward paying for the surgery he has so long for and desperately needed/

Second, I was enjoying a fine relaxing dinner with nice background music at those long bench tables they have in the International Foods Building, sharing my meal with two or three thousand of my closest friends. I was not actually sharing my meal, but moreso just sharing space like prisoners at chow.

Across from me was a family of several and I paid them as little attention as they did to me. I remember at one point, one of putting a framed glass something face down on the table. Fifteen minutes after they left, I noticed again that the same framed glass something was still on the table. Oops. It was forgotten. That sucks. Imagine spending your hard earned dollars on an item of Fair chintz and then forget it at a lunch table.

So anyway, I pick up and turn over this forgotten framed glass something and it turns out to be a likeness of a $5 bill with Al Pacino as Scarface on the portrait. It says on top I TRUST NO ONE BUT MYSELF. I sniggered and shared the story with the folks around me; including pointing out the logo on the picture and how well it matched my shirt. I told everyone that if the owners did not return by the time I was done, I got myself a new piece of Fair chintz.

I have no explanation for what happened next. Whether it was the attorney MM sittng next to me or the original owner or someone else who heard me discussing it … suddenly and in front of my eyes, the portrait was gone. I did not turn away and it was in front my meal the whole time. I have no idea how it was done, but someone managed to steal my stolen property. I can only hope the thief was the original owner. It just fascinates me how the picture got taken right in front of me and I did not even see it.

Finally, I got conned into making there separate trips to the African Village on the promise of some Carribean Coffee. It was on the menu last night, but they were out. “Come by in the morning.” I said I would and there I was this morning, searching for that cuppa joe. “No coffee yet”, said she. “Come back later”. I did; later that afternoon I came back and was told again “no coffee.” That did it. Kick me three times and I go away. Alas I am going to have to settle for what the Post Standard is selling these days.