I gave myself a few interesting experiences today. I had a “financial freedom” day, I went out with a girl friend to brunch and a floral and art exhibition, my boyfriend joined us for dinner, a walk, and tea, and then I got (willingly) scammed.
Obviously some of these events weren’t planned, but I decided to be a willing participant, so I did “gift” myself these experiences.
There are two bits of the day that’s keeping me awake and wanting to type, lemme talk about them…
“Financial freedom” day
I didn’t actively call it my “financial freedom” day, but I did decide in the morning that I would treat my girl friend to food, and then I included my boyfriend when he joined us.
We ate without looking at the price tag, and apart from really good ice-cream that my boyfriend treated us to (Venchi? Vichi? Venni? Huh I haven’t paid attention to the name), brunch was at P.S. Cafe, and dinner at… Imperial Treasure? The one known for Peking Duck at Marina Bay Sands, overlooking the casino.
It cost hundreds, and I paid.
And I realised, when I got home, that I just had a day of financial freedom. No worries about money, no looking at price tags (apart from casual curiousity) and letting the day just unfold.
It’s coming from a place where I have money, for the first time in my adult life, and I’m trying to recalibrate my sense of finances, and how to manage it.
I realised that the usual advice wouldn’t work for me. Because I’m self-employed, money comes in waves, and each wave can bring a massive amount of money. The common advice of budgeting and saving and investing needs to be tweaked, because I am not relying on consistent income.
I didn’t plan on experimenting with a “financial freedom” day, but here I am, and I have notes about it.
One, having money made it easy to pivot. Rena and I wanted to go to Muji’s cafe, but there was a long queue. I spotted P.S. Cafe, and we just went there instead.
Two, being able to treat your friend and boyfriend (and parents, because that was KFC) to food is nice. But at the end of the day, we’re still limited by our stomachs — it’s not going to be an infinite amount of food.
It’s likely to be delicious food, and a great ambiance, and pretty good service, but stomachs still control the day. We’ll get to eat better quality things (and assuming we eat something that feeds our body, then we heal and grow better), but there’s a limit to how much better this can be, and how much this adds to our life, at the end of the day.
Three, people talk about the lack of worries when you have money. Or the feeling of abundance, because you know you can buy anything and everything. The first assumes that there is always a level of anxiety to a life that lacks resouces. The second implies a measure of greed and the satisfaction of ownership.
I don’t have either feelings.
I have gone through periods when I had very little money, but I didn’t feel worry or anxiety. I just understood that I couldn’t get some of the things that I might want, and so I had to adjust my wants. It was just something to work with/around, and I didn’t feel powerless.
And walking through a beautiful exhibition on Impressionism, which ended in a display of Claude Monet’s paintings on paraphenelia for sale, I didn’t feel a sense of “oh I could get all of these if I want”, nor did I marvel at the sense of power that brings.
Maybe because I didn’t see anything I liked.
I am looking at Pandora, because an instagram post brought my attention to one of their rings, and while I could easily get it, I’m not really fussed. I could, and I could not, and it doesn’t really matter to me.
It’s a nice-to-have, which tends to leave a “so what?” sense of ennui whether I have it or no.
So maybe what I’m realising, after a day of financial freedom, is this: having money is nice, but it’s not life-changing.
Jarrod and I are planning on a future, just one year ahead. The plans need money to happen. For any normal person this would be motivation to go out and earn the cash needed. For me, frustratingly, I see it as a nice-to-have, and am not fussed whether I do get to experience the lovely things we’ve talked about. They happen if they happen, they don’t if they don’t.
I lack ambition… I lack motivation… I lack… the connection that brings desire to work.
It’s not money that motivates. It’s not even the nice things I could buy. Or the fact that I had a day where I could put aside work and just be. Or treat my friends and loved ones (which I really hoped would trigger something in me).
Unfortunately, the “financial freedom” day is showing me I really don’t feel like it’s important to me.
I need another method of motivation. Something small and everyday.
Roadshow and scammer lessons
After a pretty wonderful day, we parted ways at the different train stations, and I strolled my way home.
One lady approached me, masked and looking lost, fratic, and slightly afraid. I stopped, and she said, “Hi, I’m Lily. Do you have a moment for me to share the word of god?”
I smiled, shook my head, “No. Good luck!” And walked away.
She walked away too, then called out, slightly angry, “May the grace of god be with you!”
I turned and said “You too!” and kept walking.
Ah Lily, if I was even remotely interested in your god, your angry response just killed it. If you were so convinced about the word, why are you so terrified? And if you truly had god in your heart, why allow for anger?
Are you actually unsure, unconvinced, and doing something you don’t believe you should be doing, perchance?
You did good with introducing yourself by your name though. It’s something Chris Voss said helps.
.
A couple paces later, a man and woman approached. He spoke Mandarin, and asked if I was a local.
We started a conversation, and he told me a story of how they were from China, they realised that they couldn’t pay for food with WeChat, and they wondered if they could have money to get food and go home. They’d be going home tomorrow to [insert province].
I know, it’s a scam, but I was willing to help.
Just on the off-chance they were real (nah).
And because I figured it was a way to return payment to the universe for the scam I had to pull, back in a bootcamp, when we were forced to go out and get food, for free — and not just food, but a meal, a soup, and a drink — or suffer the consequences of just having a bun for lunch, knowing it was going to be a long day, and losing points for the team, which could earn you a many-people-in-your-face-fingers-pointed-scolding/emotional-wounding.
I hated the exercise, and I knew everyone was uncomfortable. Some felt like they had to beg. I came up with a lie I successfully used. I still don’t know and don’t care to know what the intended lesson was — to show you that blocks are just in your mind? to impress uopn us that what we think is impossible is in fact possible? to regain hope in humanity? to force us to be creative? to reflect on our reactions when we face a difficult task? — i don’t give a *beep*.
All I remember is the feeling of being a frikin scammer, and learning the lesson that these people I was with were willing to lie, cheat, do whatever it takes to meet the objective.
We did get the food, all — what, fifty? eighty? — or so of us, and the lunch was no celebration.
Someone tried to tell me that I took bootcamp too seriously. That it was just a game, and we were just to play within the goals. That I had to trust the process, and all would be revealed.
Yeah I don’t like processes, or even books, like that.
Anyway…
Back to the scammers. And the lessons I learned and remembered.
One: They approached with complete self-confidence, and that was the first difference to Lily, that worked in their favour. They knew they were scammers, and accepted that fact, and held the air of authenticity.
Two: They asked a casual non-threatening question, and curiousity makes people open.
Three: They told me a story, a reason, and I read that giving a reason makes people statistically more likely to help. Even if the reason is bull*beep*. The details in the story (the province, the wechat, the food, the going home) serve to either create conversation points, or to confuse with details.
(Note here that lies tend to be long-winded and detailed. The truth is often to the point.)
Once I decided I would help, I had to figure out how, and what I was comfortable with. I thought about buying them McDonald’s, then they asked for cash. They wanted $60, and I was not okay with that.
Four: Them asking for a figure set the bar for negotiation. Setting it so high would, of course, likely meet with rejection. If it doesn’t, they get $60 for a few minutes of work. If it does, the victim’s baseline just got shifted up.
I took out my wallet, and I’m glad they didn’t just snatch it right out of my hand.
If they did, it would be an immediate police matter. But because they gave me a choice, it was therefore my idea, and they would be able to get off scott-free.
Five: Always convince the other person it was their idea — another Chris Voss lesson.
I didn’t have small change, so they asked how much I had inside — I wasn’t gonna answer that. So they said I could buy something to get small change.
Six: Got an objection? Provide a solution.
I didn’t wanna buy a drink for no reason, and I realised I needed small change too, so I said I’d go to the ATM. They walked me there, and he asked questions and went with flattery. Also telling me it was fate.
Seven: Never leave your mark. Make conversation with questions — my height, my age range, my eyes (no clue what that was about, my Mandarin isn’t so great) — and use flattery, even if wrong or clearly insincere. He said I was “gao leng”, which, if I translate that right, refers to a woman who looks cold and haughty. Anyone who has met me for 5 seconds knows I am the complete opposite. And go with the kismet line. It’s a crowd-pleaser.
But by extending the interaction, he kept my mind occupied, so I didn’t think of other options.
They paused a little distance away from the ATM, so I knew they couldn’t get my pin or force more money.
Polite, these scammers.
Eight: Always make your victim feel comfortable? lol.
Then when I passed them some cash, he asked for more. I said no. He even tried to say “why don’t you give me your fifty, and I return you this change?” to which I, and the lady with him, laughed.
Nine: Always ask for more, I guess. Confuse, if necessary.
They walked me back down, telling me to add him on wechat, to visit China, that he would give me a treat to pay me back, that China had a whole bunch of wonderful things (that I completely didn’t understand, because Mandarin).
I gave him my number. Just on the off-chance he’d actually pay me back. (lol.) Don’t worry, I’m less open on the phone when Mandarin is spoken or texted. Without body language, it’s inaccessible and too much trouble.
They shook my hand, he tried to go for a hug — hell no, you not pickpocketing my wallet — and went their merry way.
Ten: Always end on a good note. Smiles all around.
I came home and asked my dad what his scammer looked like. He remembered a short older lady with a cap, and I guess it’s the same woman. She told my dad she owned a business then. No clue how that became “gimme money”.
I think I was pretty impressed. I would have given them less, but I figured I’d reward the bravado, and the lessons I’d learn.
Cos there are no scammers like China scammers. Dude was smooth, kept the conversation going, and actually still felt polite. The lady needs training though, she actually broke the facade cos she looked incredulous many times.
Bonus: If you’re playing backup, whether as an actor in a scene, or the backup teammate to your colleague, always smile and nod.
Was it worth the lessons? I guess I’ll try them in my next roadshow or door knocking session. Minus the scam and the confusion, of course.
But he was quite the professional in action, so I guess that’s another lesson:
When you choose to become good at what you do, the money flows.
💖🌧️
Image of a water lily in a pond,
because Monet’s most well-regarded painting
was of purple water lillies,
by ha11ok from Pixabay
