The Lure of the Counterfeit Too Strong
Commentator Dick George thinks of himself as an honest person. But when he finds himself in possession of a counterfeit $20 bill, he uses the currency at a toll booth — only to be pulled over by the police.
MICHELE NORRIS, host:
We may not like to admit it, but deep down almost all of us want to get away with something, anything, just the idea that we can put one over. Not too long ago, commentator Dick George gave it a shot.
DICK GEORGE:
It all started when my wife, Fran, somehow acquired a counterfeit 20-dollar bill, as she discovered when a merchant rejected it. I figured we were out 20 bucks; no big deal. A few days later, we were in the car and Fran told me about a conversation she'd had with some friends about where to pass a bad bill. One suggested a local restaurant run by recent immigrants. This was a horrible idea. Another suggested a booth at the midway at the state fair. Not bad, we thought, since the people there have no trouble at all enticing rubes like us to blow our money on games we can't possibly win. Another suggested the toll booth on a highway since there's no time to examine the money, and the state just wastes it anyway. Of course, all this talk was academic to me since I would never attempt to pass a bad bill.
Ten minutes later, we're approaching a toll booth. It was at this point that someone else took over my body. This person, in my own voice, said to Fran, `Give me the 20.' Fran, similarly possessed, handed me the bill. In that moment, we became locked forever in a dark conspiracy that we would soon regret. I handed the bill to the toll-taker, a middle-aged woman who looked a lot smarter and more experienced than I had hoped. She made change slowly, and as she gave me my change, I noticed she was inspecting my car. As I drove away, I saw her write down my license number.
Fran and I have been married for over 30 years. Many of the lowest points in our marriage have occurred when there was a state trooper on our bumper with the lights flashing; looked like it was going to be another one of those times. In the five minutes it took for the law to reach us, we heatedly, and in the vilest possible terms, blamed each other for the disgrace we were about to suffer.
We pulled over, the officer came to the car and words tumbled from my mouth that had no origin in my brain. `Good afternoon, Officer,' I said. `Gee, do I have a bad tail light?' He examined the rest of our cash--which, fortunately, was all genuine--and asked where we'd gotten the bill and then he let us go. Look what I did for a crummy 20 bucks. Is it any wonder what others will do when the stakes are in the millions?
NORRIS: Commentator Dick George lives in Baldwin, Maryland.
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