#10 Catfish - Part IV
The final entry in my Catfish series is a story which has always amused me. After all, isn't everything funnier when it happens to someone else? But before I launch into the tale itself, I should preface it with a bit of background information.
One pastime common to all prisoners is gambling. We will bet on anything. I do not just mean football, baseball, basketball, soccer, tennis, NASCAR, boxing, MMA and common sports that Vegas bookies offer odds for. Prisoners will bet on song lyrics, movie roles, the age or height or weight of an actress, which way a bird will fly, or whether it will rain tomorrow. Nothing is too trivial to place bets on and argue over endlessly.
The stakes vary widely. In some cases, it is monetary, or whatever passes for money at that moment, such as stamps, cigarettes, or candy bars. But most prisoners are perpetually short of money, and besides that fact, it is of far greater importance to embarrass the loser, and be able to lord it over him, than to actually win anything of value. Many bets take on an almost bizarre ritual aspect. The loser of Quack-Quacks must squat and waddle like a duck, while flapping his arms, and yelling "Quack, quack, I'm a duck, I cannot make a bet worth a f***." Jane Fonda’s require an attempt to approximate the actresses aerobic exercise workout, and Michael Jackson's necessitate an imitation of the singer’s dance moves from his videos, complete with moonwalk and "Woo!" sound. For Donkey kicks, the unfortunate loser must get down on all fours, kick their feet into the air, and yell "EEE-haw!" the agreed upon number of times. (A few daring souls sometimes bet Naked Donkey Kicks, although the loser in that instance usually never gives it a second try.)
Let it suffice to say that the loser of any bet suffers significant levels of indignity, and as such, betting is a very big deal in prison.
So, a few years ago, a neighbor of mine heard from a woman, through a prison oriented website. In very short order, she became his "girlfriend", and he was head over heels in love with her. He bragged endlessly about her, and was not shy in showing around all the photos she sent of herself. He also often bragged about the phone sex sessions. Since he is both deeply racist and homophobic, he was usually annoying to start with. But once this woman was added to the mix, he was insufferable, and on everyone's last nerve.
It only took a quick look for me to conclude he was being catfished. An attractive woman with a rather ridiculous amount of cleavage, she sent literally hundreds of pictures, every single one in a different outfit. I would guess the cost of the lingerie alone to be in excess of $100,000. Since she did not claim to be a model, but a cashier at Walmart, I seriously doubted that she would own such a wardrobe.
He defended her vociferously and insisted that she must be able to afford everything, due to employee discounts. Yet when I offered to pay to have an image search done of her photos, through a company which does internet work for prisoners, he declined. No amount of teasing or argument was enough to convince him to check up on her. It was not until I invoked the sacred ritual of the bet that he was finally (and with great reluctance) willing to give up one of her pictures to be sent out for a search.
His "girlfriend " turned out to be a porn star, by the name of Next Door Nikki. Even in the face of these results, he momentarily attempted to cling to the fiction that it was still really her, and she was only ashamed to admit to him that she was a porn star. But he eventually gave that up, after it was pointed out that the real names, addresses, ages, and geographical locations did not match up.
Once he confronted her, Nikki turned out to be a very large black man, in his 50's. (Had I set the entire thing up for the sole purpose of making him go batsh** crazy, I could not have chosen a better result!) The man apologized, and requested that they continue their relationship, which seemed to make it even worse for my neighbor. He declined, and has since removed his profile from the website, and never put another up since.
I still inquire now and again as to how Nikki might be doing, and if they had phone sex recently but he never has a response. (I only ask because I care. :-) I swear!)
And now that I think of it, he still owes me Quack-Quacks!
Previous articles of the "Catfish" series: #7 Catfish - Part I
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