Here's an older work of mine. (All of my newer work consists of unfinished screenplays...
)
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
By R C Smith
Danny Piccolo leaned casually against a pillar, watching the subway riders entering and exiting the platform. He spotted plenty of business types, a few homeless, and plenty of everyday folks on their way to and from work. It was about 5 p.m on a Friday, and the crowd was really getting big. For Danny, this meant payday. He draped his overcoat over his right arm, slipped his left hand into his pocket, and ventured forward to ply his trade. His business-casual dress allowed him to practically disappear in the crowd. At the top of the nearby stairs, a group of men in suits appeared, taking the steps two at a time, obviously in a hurry.
Danny finally picked out his first mark, a tall brunette by the newspaper machine. She wore a long overcoat, with deep pockets, and carried a large tote, the kind with no closure. The bag was slung over her right shoulder. Danny worked his way slowly toward her, checking the sides of his eyes to be sure the coast was clear. As he neared the woman, the “suits” rushed past, pushing the woman out of their way in passing. Danny stepped quickly into the group and made his move with finesse. About fifty feet down the platform, Danny slipped out of the group and into a phone booth, where he deposited a quarter and dialed up the local weather line.
As the recording on the phone predicted light rain and seasonable temperatures, Danny slipped the tote out from under his overcoat, which he put on. He leaned against the side of the booth, and hung the bag by one strap from the bottom of the phone. He searched the bag slowly; inspecting anything that might have held cash, and tossing the credit cards quickly into the trash receptacle. After a few minutes, the bag was empty. The useless items were trashed, and the cash, which totaled just over four hundred dollars, went into Danny’s calfskin wallet.
Outside, the tall woman had just discovered that her bag was missing. “shazbot!” she yelled, spinning around in circles looking for the perpetrator. She searched the floor frantically, then paced back and forth for a moment. Finally, she ran to the nearest phone booth. Danny picked up the receiver and held it to his ear as the weather report began to repeat for the fourth time. As he watched, the woman went from one booth to another, find an obstacle at each. First, it was a pregnant woman, screaming at her husband, then an “out of order” sign, then a cut phone cord, and so on.
Eventually, the woman reached Danny’s booth. She stared at him for a moment, a look of desperation on her face. Danny made eye contact, then hung up the phone and slipped the tote bag under his coat in one smooth motion.
“What’s the problem?”
“Someone snatched my bag. I was just over here…” she pointed toward the other side of the platform. “You didn’t see anything, did you?”
Danny put his college acting classes to use, and donned his “concerned” face. “No, I didn’t see anything.”
The woman shook her head in frustration. Danny decided that she was rather attractive; she had a pretty face and a nice body. What a shame. Why did bad things happen to good people, he thought sarcastically.
“I’ll be happy to help you look for your bag, though.”
A smile crossed the woman’s face. She thanked Danny and gave him a quick description. “Does that help any?”
“I have a feeling I’ll know it when I see it,” Danny said. He moved away and started looking under vending machines, on the floor, in the trash cans, and anywhere else that an amateur might dump the bag. When he was sure the woman wasn’t looking, he dropped the bag to the floor, then stooped down and picked it up. He made a show of examining the bag, then called out to the woman.
“Is this it?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. Thank you.” She grabbed the bag and opened it. “Damn! It’s completely empty.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Danny in his best sympathetic voice. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and slipped a couple of twenties out.
“Here.” He gave the bills to the woman, who gave him a puzzled look.
“Go ahead, take it. At least it’ll get you home. Did you get a look at the guy?”
“No. I didn’t see him. Are you sure this is alright?” She seemed genuinely reluctant to take the money. Danny put his hand up, refusing to take it back. Inside, he congratulated himself.
“Please. I insist.” Danny turned to walk away, then spun around to face the woman one more time. “Be careful, okay?”
The woman waved her thanks, and Danny walked briskly away to the nearest bench. He took a seat next to a rather scruffy man in a dark coat and suit. Danny looked the guy over, then decided to have some fun. He held his hand out to the man.
“How ya’ doin’?”
The man turned his head, and stared at Danny’s hand for a moment, as if he had never seen one before. After a moment, he gave Danny a firm shake and a thin smile.
“Hell of a day today, eh?”
The man said nothing.
“What’s wrong, man. Something I said?”
The man looked at Danny for a moment and sighed.
“Kaufman.”
“Say what?”
“My name: Kaufman.”
“Oh. Mine’s Danny. Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m sure.” Kaufman looked over his shoulder and gestured in that direction. “That was a pretty good move you made back there.”
Danny was slightly stunned. “What are you talking about?”
“The purse. That was a good move. I wouldn’t have stuck around so long myself, but it worked out well.”
Danny was becoming very nervous.
"And giving the lady her own money as a good gesture. That was a classic.” Kaufman chuckled to himself. “You got some balls, kid.”
Danny started to relax. Apparently, Kaufman was in the same line of work. He didn’t see any harm in a little shoptalk.
“shazbot, man. You ain’t seen nothing. I’ve done a lot better than that.”
“Really? Tell me about it.”
Danny was genuinely impressed. Rarely did he meet anyone that he didn’t have to lie to.
“Well, there was this one time I conned a guy out of five grand by pretending I was a doctor. We were on one of those long train rides, to New Jersey, I think. Anyway, I kept him distracted with some med school stories, and slipped some nicotine gum into these sandwiches he was eating. I kept slipping it to him, and by the time we reached the second leg of the trip, he was convinced that he had food poisoning. I gave him about eight sleeping pills, a fake business card, and some bullshazbot medical advice; thirty minutes later, he was out cold; I had his cash, his Rolex, and his wedding ring. And he had one bad ****in’ hangover when he reached Newark.” Danny laughed boisterously.
“You do that very often, you'll get sent up in a New York minute.”
“Nah - I'm too careful to get pinched. If I even got near a cop, I’d be hauled away for god knows how many things. My whole life’s a bullshazbot story; ain’t one thing I have that I didn’t steal, con someone out of, or bullshazbot my way into.”
“You sound proud of it.” Kaufman said questioningly.
“Damn right I am. It’s just like anything else; some people are naturals. Others could practice their whole lives and still get caught first time out. Me, I just get out there with the people, and the shazbot just flies into my pockets, like magic, you know?”
“Some got it, some don’t, huh?”
“Yeah. There you go.”
“So you think you’re pretty smart, huh?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m a goddamn genius, man. You said it yourself.”
“I said you had some good moves. That don’t make you no genius. It just makes you above average.” Kaufman turned his attention to a movie poster across the platform.
“Above average? Screw that, man. I’m so high on the scale, I can’t even see average.” Danny’s voice was getting louder and louder as he spoke. Kaufman just shook his head and smiled as the cocky son-of-a-bitch kept bragging.
“You know, kid,” said Kaufman. “I thought I was just gonna shoot the breeze; have some polite conversation with a fellow pro.” He stood up and brushed himself off.
“Instead, I get some egomaniacal asshole who thinks he knows everything because he can cheat some airhead out of a few bucks without getting caught. See ya’ around, kid.”
Kaufman turned on his heel and walked quickly away. Danny watched him until he disappeared around a corner. He stood and waited patiently for the next train, a smug smile on his face.
Once he was safely aboard the train, Danny pulled Kaufman’s wallet from his coat pocket. It was expensive looking, with fold-down covers over the credit card sections, and two separators in the cash compartment. Danny rifled through the cash; only about two hundred bucks. He wasn’t surprised; the guy looked like he was lucky to have that much. Just another washed up pickpocket, he thought. What a waste.
Back at the platform, Kaufman lifted the pay phone receiver and dropped a quarter in the slot. He dialed and waited a moment for an answer.
“Goodman? Sure, I’ll hold.” Kaufman looked around the platform, then checked his watch. It was almost lunchtime.
“Bill? Yeah, this is Harvey. I’ve got a present for ya’. He’s on the next train comin’ through Sixty-seventh street station, the Number Eight train. Yeah, that’s right. He’s wearing a light khaki suit, and a dark brown overcoat, with my wallet in the pocket. Brown hair, brown eyes… Yeah. And, Bill, he spilled the beans about another job, so we might be able to get him on that, too. I guess you owe me fifty. Yeah, I’ll talk to ya’ later.”
Kaufman hung the phone up and leaned against the wall. He sighed, the last ten hours wearing on him. Slowly, a smile grew on his face.
“Stupid kid…”
Danny sat rigid in his seat, sweating like a pig. His eyes darted around they subway car, and his entire body trembled. His heart was racing. In his lap lay a rather expensive leather wallet, with about two hundred dollars in the cash compartment and fold-down flaps over the credit card sections. And, nestled under one of these flaps was a big, shiny detective’s badge.
Danny began to relax as he reached the next stop. He could get off there and disappear like he had a hundred times before. The guy would be miles away before he noticed. Danny finally stopped shaking and smiled to himself. Yeah, he was Danny Picollo. He was the best. Danny looked at the badge again. It was cool. He was Danny Picollo, for Christ’s sake. He could do anything.
He was Danny Picollo.
He was a genius…
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First Impressions
) That's cool.
