18/5/01
Generous
to
a
Fault
It
used
to
be
hard
to
say
no.
But
I've
learned.
I'm
one
of
a
few
people
in
this
country
who
works
to
earn
money.
The
rest
are
employed
to
try
every
trick
to
take
my
money
away.
Scamming,
schnorring,
hustling:
it's
our
gross
national
product.
If
they're
not
phoning
for
my
opinion,
it's
for
my
credit
card
number.
They
talk
fast
so
I
can't
stop
them
to
say
no,
which
I
would
if
they'd
let
me.
Eventually
they
have
to
give
me
a
chance
to
say
something,
like
yes,
please,
take
all
I've
got,
or
more
likely,
#*@!&#!.
I
used
to
try
to
be
nice
about
it.
"Charity
begins
at
home,"
I'd
say.
"Good,
we'll
be
there
in
two
minutes."
But
then
I
got
burned.
I
got
a
call
from
Kav
Lachayim,
the
Israel
Center
for
Children
with
Cerebral
Palsy
and
Cancer.
Real
hard
to
say
no
to
them,
right?
I
said
OK,
50
shekels.
I
told
them
my
credit
card
number.
A
long,
long
time
later,
they
mailed
the
receipt.
The
receipt
thanked
me
for
the
400
shekels,
said
I'm
a
really
great
guy,
the
kids'll
have
a
better
life
all
because
of
me.
Four
hundred
shekels!
You
should
understand,
I
am
not
Rothschild.
I
called
them
up.
They
said
it
was
a
silly
mistake,
a
simple
misunderstanding,
it
never
happened
before,
and
they
promised
to
stop
the
payments.
The
next
month,
my
Visa
account
was
robbed
of
another
50.
Steaming
mad,
I
called
them
again
and
demanded
my
money
back.
"Sorry,"
they
said,
"We
can
only
give
you
back
500
shekels."
Huh?
I
explained
that
I'd
only
given
400
(plus
that
month's
50).
"No,
you
got
a
receipt
for
400.
We
haven't
issued
a
receipt
yet
for
the
other
500,
so
you
can
get
that
back."
"Are
you
saying
you've
taken
900
shekels
from
me?!"
"Yes
sir,
plus
another
two
payments
that
we
haven't
even
processed
yet."
They
had
put
me
down
for
50
every
month
--
every
month
forever.
They
said
it
was
a
mistake,
and
they
were
really
sorry,
and
when
they
took
another
50
a
month
later
they
said
that
was
a
mistake
too,
and
a
month
later
they
said
it
was
another
mistake
when
they
took
yet
another
50.
But
they
assured
me
all
that
money
was
being
well
spent.
I
then
took
a
closer
look
at
my
Visa
account
report,
and
discovered
I
was
being
rooked
by
a
second
charity
too.
My
donation
to
Lev
Malka
for
36
shekels
somehow
became
a
standing
bank
order
for
NIS
36
every
month
for
a
year.
I
called
them.
A
silly
mistake,
they
said.
A
simple
misunderstanding.
We
thought
you
said
...
Oh,
but
this
has
never
happened
before,
they
assured
me.
It
took
weeks
to
get
through
to
Visa
(silly
me,
I
was
calling
the
number
indicated
for
"clarifications"),
and
when
I
finally
did,
they
were
helpful,
but
almost
helpless.
I
told
the
clerk
the
sorry
tale,
and
asked
that
he
stop
payment
for
both
immediately.
Not
so
fast,
he
said;
it's
no
easy
matter
to
stop
payment,
and
by
the
way,
he
added,
looking
at
your
account
I
see
there's
yet
another
payment
for
Kav
Lachayim
this
month,
shall
I
assume
you
don't
want
to
pay
it?
OK,
so
I'm
stupid.
I
wouldn't
buy
a
vacuum
cleaner
over
the
phone,
or
a
plot
of
land
under
the
Temple
Mount,
but
I
figured
I
could
trust
people
collecting
alms
for
sick
kids.
Look,
I'm
happy
to
give
charity,
but
I
feel
violated
when
they
show
their
gratitude
with
chicanery,
theft
and
greed.
This
brings
to
mind
a
sorry
story
from
a
few
years
ago.
Marks
&
Spencer's
used
to
show
its
love
for
Zionism
by
giving
anyone
with
an
Israel
passport
a
10%
discount
on
any
purchase
in
its
UK
stores.
A
nice
way
to
say
we
love
you,
right?
Well,
Israelis
just
don't
know
how
to
say
thank
you.
They
found
a
way
to
cheat
the
system,
by
making
huge
purchases
and
then
immediately
returning
them,
earning
a
nice
10%
profit.
Typically
killing
the
goose
that
layed
the
golden
eggs,
these
Israelis
spoiled
things
for
the
rest
of
us,
and
turned
goodwill
sour.
M&S
quietly
withdrew
the
offer.
YA'AKOV
"JACK"
Bauman
is
a
nice,
friendly
man
who
until
recently
lived
in
Efrat.
When
I
met
him,
a
couple
of
years
ago,
he
earned
a
living
hanging
around
gas
stations,
soliciting
donations
for
a
charity.
I
was
selling
my
old
car,
and
Bauman
answered
the
ad.
The
car
was
tip-top
mechanically,
I
told
him,
but
it
was
old,
pus-colored
and
battered.
Perfect,
he
said:
in
his
business,
it
was
good
for
his
image
to
look
poor
(I
took
that
as
an
insult
to
my
car,
but
I
let
it
go).
His
employer
was
buying
it
for
him,
and
it
was
just
what
he
was
looking
for.
The
price
was
right.
We
became
instant
pals.
He
was
American,
religious,
genial.
He
appreciated
my
attachment
to
the
"oldmobile,"
and
said
I
could
visit
it
anytime.
He
paid
me
with
two
checks
from
the
charity,
and
we
practically
hugged
as
he
drove
off.
The
checks
bounced.
Nice,
friendly
Jack
Bauman
had
stolen
the
checks
and
forged
the
signatures.
I
called
his
now
ex-boss.
He
said
I
was
in
good
company:
Bauman
stole
money
from
them
too,
and
numerous
others.
It
turns
out
this
charity
collector
was
a
major
charity
unto
himself.
Cheery,
trustworthy
and
persuasive,
Bauman
found
that
he
couldn't
fool
all
the
people
all
the
time:
he
was
fired,
his
wife
divorced
him,
and
he
went
into
hiding
from
the
enraged
likes
of
me.
He's
still
driving
around
in
my
beloved
old
car,
I
still
haven't
been
paid,
and
all
I
can
hope
for
is
the
satisfaction
of
putting
him
in
prison:
the
Police
Fraud
Department
took
keen
interest
in
my
complaint,
and
recommended
his
arrest
to
the
Public
Prosecutor's
Office.
The
funny
thing
is,
Bauman
never
asked
me
for
a
donation.
I
might
have
been
paying
that,
too,
every
month
for
life.
YOU
SHOULDN'T
think
I
always
fall
for
it,
but
it
does
happen
sometimes
because
I
don't
think
quickly
enough
in
Hebrew;
I
need
an
extra
few
moments
to
silently
translate
the
shpiel.
(Now
I
turn
the
tables
on
'em:
I
get
them
to
speak
in
English,
so
while
they're
stammering
and
translating,
I'm
the
one
with
the
quick
answers.)
I
neatly
avoided
a
costly
scam
because
the
caller
was
Russian,
and
his
torpid
Hebrew
was
worse
than
mine.
I
was
kinda
surprised
to
get
a
collect
call
from
Bezeq.
I
accepted
the
call,
and
the
guy
says
he's
a
Bezeq
technician,
there's
a
problem
with
my
line,
would
I
press
the
following
numbers
so
he
can
check
if
the
line
works.
I
had
time
to
think
while
he
spit
it
all
out:
1.
He's
from
Bezeq
and
he's
calling
collect?
OK,
I
figure
this
is
how
the
phone
company
saves
money
and
makes
money
at
the
same
time.
Disgusting,
but
brilliant.
2.
There's
a
problem
with
my
line?
Then
how
did
he
get
through?
3.
He
could
fix
it
if
I
call
him?
4.
When
I
told
him
my
phone
was
working
jim-dandy,
he
insisted
there
was
a
problem,
and
tenaciously
argued
with
me.
Now,
I've
had
some
experience
with
these
kind
of
people,
and
if
I'm
not
willing
to
be
helped,
they
say
the
hell
with
you
and
slam
down
the
phone.
This
guy
so
desperately
wanted
to
help,
he
eventually
said,
"Well,
maybe
you're
right,
but
we
won't
know
for
sure
if
there
is
no
problem
unless
you
call
this
number."
In
other
words,
CALL
THE
NUMBER!
I
didn't.
But
the
next
day
I
did
call
Bezeq's
spokesman
(not
collect)
to
ask
what
this
was
all
about,
and
they
said
yeah,
the
police
are
on
his
trail.
The
day
after,
there
was
a
story
in
the
Post
about
it:
numerous
people
had
been
scammed
for
thousands
of
shekels
by
complying
--
and
unwittingly
dialing
the
"follow
me"
number,
which
transfers
usage
of
your
line.
He
didn't
get
me.
NEITHER
DID
the
talent
scout
who
stopped
one
of
my
kids
on
the
way
home
from
school,
and
gushed
that
she
should
be
a
model.
He
got
our
phone
number
and
called
to
tell
us
we've
got
a
special
kid
with
a
marvelous
future,
bring
her
to
the
studio.
By
the
way,
we
said,
we've
got
two
more
just
like
her.
Identical
triplets.
Should
we
bring
them
too?
Wary
we
were,
but
no,
no,
no,
they
swore,
we're
legitimate,
we're
serious,
not
like
the
others.
This
is
not
a
scam,
he
assured
us.
It
was
a
scam.
After
a
two-minute
"screen
test,"
we
were
told
they're
perfect,
we're
all
gonna
get
rich
on
this,
and
it'll
cost
us
only
NIS
5,000,
sign
here.
Now,
we
believe
our
kids
are
worth
it,
which
is
why
we
decided
five
grand
was
a
fair
investment.
And
being
a
serious
modeling
agency,
they
would
certainly
see
it
that
way.
So
we
felt
it
was
reasonable
to
ask
that
they
pay
the
girls
NIS
5,000.
Each.
Maybe
this
explains
why
we're
neither
rich,
nor
poor.