Trifter

There’s a new scam on the streets of Paris.

The girl looked so honest at first. As we emerged from the Metro, she was bending down and picking something up from the ground. She stood up with a look of astonishment on her face, and showed us what she was holding in her hand. It was a gold ring!

On realising we weren’t French, she exclaimed in faltering English that this was a real gold ring that someone must have dropped! She gave it to us to examine, and we spotted a hallmark inside. It looked like real gold and certainly seemed, to our inexpert eyes at least, to be expensive. We all agreed that it needed to be taken to the police station.

The girl, who was aged about twenty and dressed in clean jeans and a warm top, her hair tied back neatly and wearing no make up, seemed respectable and honest. She went on to tell us that she couldn’t take it to the police station herself because her religion banned jewellery. We felt we had no option other than to offer to take it ourselves, so she handed the ring to us and we said our goodbyes.

We turned away from her, and started to think about finding le commissariat de police, but something didn’t feel quite right.

Then we heard her call us back. Smiling warmly, she suggested to us that perhaps she deserved a reward for her honestly. As her religion wouldn’t let her take the ring herself, a financial payment would do instead. Would we like to give her some money? Could we at least buy her a cup of tea?

I felt confused. Why would we want to buy her a cup of tea? You can’t just go up to someone in the street and ask them to buy you a drink! Can you?

Slowly, the penny dropped. This was all a scam. We refused to give her any money and gave her the ring back. Immediately her demeanour changed. The smile dropped and she became more forceful. We walked away from her with insults ringing in our ears.

Discussing it afterwards, we felt a mix of emotions. Stupidity, for being so slow on the uptake and failing to realise straightaway that it was a scan. Gullibility for thinking that the hallmarks were genuine. Anger that she had tried to fool us. Amusement that anyone whose religion banned jewellery should have her ears pierced. And a small, grudging admiration, for what was at least a novel and unusual way to try to obtain money from people – better than the usual “dog on a lead and euros in a hat” routine.

Later in the day, we saw exactly the same performance being acted out again in the upmarket streets near the Paris Ritz. Different woman, similar ring, same tale. However, these well-heeled pedestrians were all far too worldly wise to fall for her story, and she wasn’t able to engage anyone in conversation. We realised then that this was obviously the latest craze in the world of the Parisian con artiste.

The next day, we saw our girl again near Le Louvre. She recognised us straight away, and began swearing and name calling. The pleasant smile and ingratiating ways were nowhere to be seen, and we felt quite intimidated as we passed. A few minutes later, the smile was back as she tried the old routine on a passing elderly couple who were, I’m glad to say, far more streetwise than us and far too clever to fall for her tricks!

So watch out next time you’re in Paris – despite the wonderful statues on the Pont Alexandre, all that glitters is most definitely not gold.