Listen up, old folks: I have a story to tell that you need to hear.
My name is Rene Allen, I am 88 years old, a widow, living alone.
On Sept. 21 I sold a small car, a Nissan sports van, to a woman who lives in the country. She agreed to pay $1300 for the car, $1200 cash and $100 more on the first of next month.
She came to my house with three of her pretty red-haired teenage daughters. She showed me an envelope with money, then spread the money on my dining table and counted out one thousand in hundred dollar bills and two hundred in twenties, then said she would bring me the other hundred the first of next month.
We began filling out the pink slip with our names and she told me to put the money back in the envelope. I replied that it was okay on the table. Then she repeated that it would be better if I put it back in the envelope. That should have raised a red flag to me but I put the money back in the envelope and left it on the table.
When we finished the paperwork, I stood up to let her pass to go out. She leaned a little to block my view, gathered up all the papers, including the envelope and money and followed me out the door and I walked her out to the car as a courtesy.
She said she was going straight to the DMV and left.
I went in to get the money to go to the bank and of course the envelope of money was not on the table.
This woman not only took my money; she also took my pride, my self-confidence, made me look stupid and took away a family reunion half across the country because that was why I sold the car; to finance the trip. Next year I may not be well enough to travel.
The pretty red-haired girls who made trips to my bathroom, also took a unique, beautiful pair of sterling earrings I was fond of, and several tubes of lipsticks.
So — good older people, read my story and don’t be as trusting as I was. If you transact business in your home, have a witness or family there. And, don’t let strangers use your bathroom.