The Lugano Experience

Hi Everybody!

“Hi Sven”

I promised you all a story of how I got scammed at the Milan Subway station, and after this much build up I think it can only be a let down…  Sort of like when you are promised a car for your 16th birthday and that big day finally shows up and your Dad hands you the remote control.  I mean, yea, a remote control car is cool and all, but you were hoping for something with a little more back-seat room.  Or, it may even be worse… Dad could hand you the cars to the Chevette (and yes, my dad actually did give me his Chevette).  And since it was only 2 Euros that I got scammed for, well, they are hardly going to be making a movie out of it.  “Grifters, The Sven Job.”

But, a promise is a promise, and while I may not be punctual on the fulfillment, a Sven always pays his debts…  So, here goes…

We last left our hero on the way to Milan where he was (the hero - that’s me, if you hadn’t caught that) showing his mother-in-law around Milan (you remember her, the illegal Klingon immigrant). 

He… ok, I can’t continue this talk-about-me-in-the-third-person-thing… I am a lot of things, but pompous and arrogant I am not.  Well, at least I refuse to admit it to the likes of you.  Yes, you know who you are…  No, not you (sorry, wasn’t meaning you) I meant that other one over there…

Ok, I have completely side tracked myself…  Oh yea, we decided to take the subway to the Duomo (the big churchy touristy thing to do in Milan if you aren’t shopping).  Now, I had taken the subway once before in Milan and it is very easy to navigate - there are only 3 lines, and two of them go to the Duomo.

No sooner had I walked into the station than I got marked.  It was almost something you can feel - the big “tourist” stamp landing on your forehead.  Anyway, this guy strolls up and asks if I speak English.

WARNING… WARNING… INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT!  (Remember Berzerk?  Ahhh, the good ol’ days… <sigh>)

So, with spidey senses on 100% I answer pensively “yesss.”  And this nice gentleman says, “You going to the Duomo.”

Ok, now my hand is in my pocket, clutching my wallet. “Yesssss.”

The man (I will call him Frederico the Magnificent for reasons that will become obvious, soon) says,”Alright, here you get your tickets here.”  Now, normally I would say sorry bubba, but this guy WAS leading the way to the only open ticket machine.  So, we walk over (and he is all smiles), and he shows me the machine like it is some great pagan god of Mysterious-Ticket-Delivery, and he tells me to put my money in “there” and he points to the bill inserter thingy-my-jig (not to be confused with a thingy-my-bob).

Ok, so far, he hasn’t asked me for anything, and the guy is looking (and acting) in an almost official capacity…  And, having done this before, his instructions are correct….

So, I put my ten Euro note into the machine (still ready to dive tackle the guy), and he asks if we want three tickets.  “Yesss.”  So he pushes all the buttons (let me remind everyone, that none of this is rocket science - I am merely allowing him to “help” in order to not be rude).

The tickets pop down into a vending-machine like tray (sort of like you are grabbing a Coke) and he pulls each one out with a flourish.  The Mysterious-Ticket-Delivery god has found favor with this Italian man and he is sharing that favor with the fortunate tourists.  A beam of light wafted from above and a dove landed lightly on the mans shoulder.  He held the ticket aloft and gave this great gift to us one … at … a … time. 

Then the  Mysterious-Ticket-Delivery god rattles - showing it approves of Frederico even more.  It gives us change. 

Now, for those across the pond in the land of paper money, you should note that the smallest Euro bill is the 5.  The Euro has 2 and 1 Euro coins, making it very convenient to dispense change in a vending machine - especially in a world where the only thing that costs less than a buck is.. is…  Ok, so nothing over here costs less than a buck. 

Clink clink clink.  Lickety split, without missing a beat, my new Personal Assistant, Frederico the Magnificent, reaches down and grabs the change, smiles at me and says “For me, for helping?” and starts to put the money in his pocket.

I give him an incredulous look, and say “Uhh, that’s a bit much.”

He then opens his palm and shows me 5 Euro (two 2 Euro coins and a 1 Euro coin) and I tell him he can take a 2 Euro (I am feeling generous).

A few moments later, I realize that the tickets are only a Euro each and that Frederico the PA (who is fired and long gone, btw) had embezzled 2 Euro by PALMING the coin!!  Now, I am almost upset except that it was done with such finesse (and thinking back on it, I actually know where he did it having used the same exact trick in one of my own routines) that it is hard for me to be angry… Hell, I just got a very inexpensive magic lesson!

So I smiled, double checked my wallet, thank the good lord I don’t wear a watch, and vowed to warn my friends about this little routine.

Which I now, have dutifully done.

And with that, I wish you all a Happy New Year!  (yes, even you