Predatory behavior

Coming from Orange County ..where beach parking is a nightmare ..I’m always delighted when I can pull off the road anywhere I want ..for free. I walk down the steps to a beach ..located in Oprah County ..as though I’m a local. I’m walking by the water, minding my own business, pleasantly empty-headed ..when I walk into the middle of a frisbee toss. It lands in the water where a tall blond, wearing only a thong, goes: “I’m not playing anymore” ..and walks back to her towel. I wade in to fetch the frisbee ..thinking about the thousands I’ve lost the same way ..when her male partner gets right in my face going: “I know you ..didn’t you use to hang out at Rocks ?” (a bar on State street). I’m like, no ..you must be thinking of someone else ..and figure that’s it. He doesn’t budge . He proceeds to tell me the names of all the other bars he goes to ..and all the property he owns ..how much money he wins in Vegas ..how they comp his airfare, hotel rooms and hookers ..how he schmoozes the blackjack dealers ..and always leaves there several thousand dollars richer. Then asks me how I would like to join him sometime. I tell him about the time I lost forty grand in Tahoe and swore off gambling. He tells me Vegas is a different story ..and changes the subject. Meanwhile, he’s still in my face ..and standing so close that we bump into each other every time our weight shifts in the sand. I don’t mind ..he’s pleasant enough and has good hygiene, but ..I can’t figure out what all the self-promotion is about. Now he’s talking about his efforts to save the ocean ..and I ask him if he’s an attorney (a conversation killer) ..and he’s like, no ..just someone who knows the right moves ..like when he’s in Vegas ..and blah blah blah. Then he asks if I’d like to join him up on the beach right now ..and gestures toward a group of babes. I chuckle and say that I’d love to, but ..I gotta go. He tells me to stop by next time ..they’ll be there. I say OK ..and ask his name. Steve Harmon. I’m walking away wondering where I heard that name before. I take a swim ..and sit on the sand to watch the sunset. Then one of Steve’s girls comes over and says she’s sure she knows me from somewhere ..and I say I don’t think so, because I’d definitely remember her. She goes: “Don’t you live in Hope Ranch ?” No, I reply ..must be someone else you’re thinking of. Now I’m sure this isn’t just friendly conversation. I told Steve I’m not a local ..but wasn’t more specific .. and now I just ruled out the second wealthiest place around. I politely tell her that I have to go .. and walk up the steps .. go over to my car ..when, boom ..it hits me. I remember where I heard his name. He was a high-rolling venture capitalist in Silicon Valley ..who took a well-publicized beating during the dot-com bust of 2001. So, now I’m thinking ..the stock market isn’t looking so hot ..he probably wants to see if I’m someone who could help bankroll his next gambling expedition. Suspicious soul that I am.