My Meeting With The Tall Man From The Long Black Limo

It was late afternoon. Outside the store I worked in, the main street in our country's biggest city was packed with the noise of homebound traffic banking up.

The lights of the big department store across the street glistened in the puddles of the recent rain.

And I was a teen in my first job, a lowly assistant in the main branch of a chain of photographic stores, just out of school.

As I watched the road, a long, sleek, black Citroen drew up on the bus stop outside, lights blinking. The kind that French embassies would use.

A tall man got out and weaved through the throngs of people.

He made his way assuredly into our store.

And it was my turn to serve him.


He was tanned, with a sportscoat and black turtleneck, smiling and friendly. He wanted to hire a 16mm projector.

All went well until it came to the identification he needed to give us.

He looked in his coat pockets, searching.

"I've just come out of prison," he said, handing me a piece of paper. "Will this do?"

I opened it to find an official-looking document with his photo and a stamp below. I assumed it was a release certificate.

Perplexed, I didn't know what to do. I had been told only to get a driver's licence or passport, nothing else.

But I made the call, and accepted his verification.

As he disappeared into the traffic with our expensive projector, I wondered if my month-long job was going along with it.

And I wouldn't know until - or if - he returned the following morning.


Sometimes it's hard to know who to trust. You've got a selection of numbers from the Silver Lotto System, all waiting to be used. But you're a little nervous.

Can you trust that they will get you the results you want?

Will they hit the mark. Or fail completely?

The only way to tell is to try.

Most players don't try hard enough. They are timid, worried about wasting their funds.

The answer is that if you want to become a rich winner, you've got to trust my System.

Just like me, waiting on my customer to return.


Would the convicted felon come back as he promised, the following morning? It weighed heavily on my mind that night.

I had accepted his explanation and checked the hire form to say I had sighted his ID. So I was legally responsible for the outcome.

But I wasn't happy. I had taken a huge risk. That projector was worth 6 month's wages at least.

Morning tea passed, then lunchtime approached.


The deadline was midday.

It had just minutes to go.


I was putting on my coat to go for lunch when the black car rolled majestically up and parked - illegally again on the bus stop.


My job was safe. And my relief was overwhelming. And I learned a little about human nature in that 24 hours that I would never forget.

People are generally good. And appearances are not always what they seem.

Trust and Try... it's the answer.