May he rot in hell for all eternity. It is possible that I was not swindled, as I thought, at the Global Exchange window in the airport, but by an unscrupulous taxi driver at the very late hour of 6 am after coming out from Crobar. After I sent an email complaint, the people from the exchange place contacted me promptly and told me that they checked the serial numbers on the bills I provided and their video thereof and according to them, they don't match. They invited me to see the videos by myself. Not that I totally believe them, but then again the insidious nature of this scam is that you don't trust anything or anybody and neither do they. This set me thinking that perhaps it was a fucking cabbie. Now, most of the cabbies here are decent and some are great conversationalists. But that one was a mutt. I remember him very well and if I run across him -- fat chance -- I will have him arrested.
Now I am thoroughly confused about where and when I may have received the fake money, but one thing is certain: counterfeit money is particularly humiliating. You are stuck with trash and many people tell you to try to use it on some other unsuspecting schmuck. This is hard, 1) because at this point it is very hard to find someone unsuspecting; 2) because it feels like terrible karma. Why would I do to someone else what this asshole did to me?
Counterfeit money is nasty.
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