“My brother will love these. It’s the first time he has had a home in four years. Thank you so much.”
He smiled, gave me a big, musky, hug, and drove away. I wasn’t sure if I had just done a good deed, or been hustled by a Craig’s List scam artist.
This story actually begins months before – so let’s go back to the beginning.
Note: This story is completely true, with the exception of names that have been changed at their request.
Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginning’s End
I moved to Los Angeles in January to study Computer Science at USC. That summer, my roommate and I parted ways as we both moved on to new places to live. We sorted through the things in the apartment – practically all I owned was my mattress, guitar, computer and some clothes.
“Here,” he said “take these. You’ll like them – my new roommates already have a full kitchen.” He handed me a pair of rusty frying pans, some tupperware, random mismatched utensils and spatulas. It wasn’t much, but then I wasn’t much of a cook.
We packed everything into my Saturn station wagon, and I headed west. 5 miles west - Redondo Beach.
Presents From Mom
That same summer, I traveled to Hawaii to visit family and friends. I visited my parents and told my mom how I rarely cooked, and was proud of my gourmet bachelor lifestyle (milk and cereal, frozen dinners, restaurants and bars). My mom was not amused and, being about as “mom” as they come, decided to go through her spare (and not so spare) cookware to fill out my kitchen. She picked out some Cutco knives, Circulon pans, a large pot for boiling, a Vitamix Blender and various other high quality kitchen items for me to take back to California. I was pretty happy with what I had, but I never was very successful at winning arguments with my mother.
I packed everything she gave me in a suitcase and took it back to California. My friend from Hawaii moved into the second bedroom. It was his first time living outside of Hawaii, and my first time living an ocean away from family. Life was good.
New Stuff Leads to Fall Cleaning
Months passed. I don’t remember exactly when it was, but we were starting to grow short of storage space in our apartment. I decided to do some cleaning, dug around in the kitchen and found my old rusty pans which I never used anymore.
I decided to put them on Craig’s list for free to see if anyone wanted them. I couldn’t imagine anyone would, but why not? If nobody picked them up in a couple days, I’d just throw them out.
I think the ad read something to the effect of: ”FREE – Rusty Pans. Use at Your Own Risk.”
Perhaps I could have used a more enticing headline.
The Pans Have a New Home, Thanks To Carlos
Within hours of me posting, I had an email from someone asking if the pans were still available, and if he could pick them up that afternoon. Carlos drove up in a beat up white truck filled with random junk – chairs, a plastic table, empty flowerpots. He saw me waiting outside, with two rusty pans in my hands, turned off the engine and stepped out. He looked a little dirty, smiled and appeared happy to see me.
I was afraid I was about to get mugged.
“Here’s the pans!” I said, and practically shoved them in his face. He took them carefully from me and gently looked them over. You would have thought my rusty pans were works of art. ”They’re perfect!”
I asked what he was going to do with them. He explained to me that his brother, Juan had been living on the street, and had been disowned by his siblings, parents, friends – everyone but Carlos, who never gave up believing in him. Carlos drove an hour each day after work to Venice where Juan was staying, and every day he’d walk around, find Juan, spend time with him, and take him to get some food – often his only meal that day. On days that he couldn’t find Juan, Carlos would go home worried that something had happened.
His words struck me as sincere, and I was moved by his story. Carlos told me he had been driving around all day collecting items for Juan’s tiny studio apartment, which of course he was renting with money Carlos was loaning him. He excitedly showed me the flower pots, chairs and ratty old plastic table.
I wasn’t sure how successful Juan would be, but I decided it wasn’t my place to judge. I was very touched by Carlos’ dedication, and wanted him to succeed.
“Just a second,” I heard myself saying “I think I may have more upstairs.”
I walked up the steps and wasn’t sure what I was looking for. I knew I didn’t have any other rusty pans. As I reached my apartment, I decided if I really wanted to make a difference, perhaps I should try giving him something that would last. I picked out a couple of Cutco knives, one my Circulon pans, and a fancy spatula that I had never used. I wrapped the knives in paper towels and headed back outside.
I went back to Carlos and handed them to him. “Be careful, I don’t have a sheath for the knives, they are very sharp.”
He beamed as he looked them over. ”My brother will love these. It’s the first time he has had a home in four years. Thank you so much.”
He smiled, gave me a big, musky, hug, and drove away.
A Great Story For My Friends
Over the years, I have told this story countless times to family, friends and acquaintances. We enjoyed speculating how it turned out and discussing whether I was just a gullible sap. Did Juan manage to keep his apartment? Did he end up back on the streets? Was Carlos just a smooth scam artist who had used the pots and pans as a ruse to hustle me out of my expensive cookware?
We knew we would never find out, but it was always fun to debate – and it was a great story about how no matter how useless you may think your junk is, someone on Craig’s List will take it.
A Strange Phone Call
About a month ago, I received a strange phone call from a blocked number. Sometimes it is my family, and sometimes blocked numbers are telemarketers. I answered cautiously.
Them: ”Hello?”
Sid: “Hello?”
Them: “Is this Siddarth Savara?”
It wasn’t my family. Telemarketer. I was irritated.
Me: “Who wants to know? Who is this? I am very busy right now”
There was a moment of silence and then.
Them: “I am sorry, I didn’t realize you were busy. Is your email address still _____?”
Me: ”Yes, who is this? By law you have to tell me if I ask you.” (I don’t know if this is true, but it sure sounds good!)
Them: “Sorry to disturb you, I will email you.” [Click]
I went back to work and waited to see if they would call again. Nobody called, and nobody emailed. I carried on life as usual, went home, and went to sleep.
How The Story Ends
The next morning when I woke up, I received an email titled “He Is Getting Married!”
I was confused. The name said it was from someone named Carlos, and with a bogus headline like that, how had it gotten past my spam filters?
I opened it up – and learned how this story, which started over five years ago, finally ends.
Carlos told me Juan was getting married. He had managed to keep his apartment (through a few close calls), and a job (on his third try). Juan was now dating a woman, Eva, and they were going to be married in January.
His fiancee, Eva, had asked Juan many times to tell her friends and family his story – how his family disowned him, how he had almost died many times living on the street, and how his brother had driven all over town to pick up free items from Craig’s List to furnish the apartment – the ugly flower pots, the ratty table, the old rusty frying pans.
Eva’s Brother Ivan Has Suspicions
Most surprising though, was Eva’s brother, Ivan’s reaction when he heard the story. He didn’t believe Juan, and said he was a liar trying to take advantage of his sister, and didn’t want them to be married. He wanted proof. They were in Juan’s apartment at the time and Juan was angry at the accusations, and also scared of losing his fiancee.
Unfortunately, by then so many years had passed that over time Juan (with help from his family) had replaced the furniture and random household items that strangers had given him. Ivan started pointing things out in the apartment – “Did your brother pick up this? How about this? No? Haven’t you always just been living here, isn’t this all just a story?”
Ivan went inside the small kitchen and began again – “Look how new this toaster is. Look at this nice microwave.”
Then he threw open the cabinets, and pulled out random food items, tortillas etc – until he stopped. He stepped back, and looked at Juan, and back at Juan’s fiancee.
Ever the true bachelor, Juan had kept his home relatively clean, but in all those years hadn’t cleaned out the cupboards. Perhaps he had not done much cooking either in the studio’s little kitchenette area. Ivan reached in the back of the cupboard, moved aside some containers, and pulled out two old, rusty frying pans.
My old, rusty frying pans. Frying pans that helped change a man’s life, and now cemented an engagement.
The End
The moral of the story?
Is it to have faith in people and they may just surprise you? Or maybe – not everyone with a sob story is a scam artist?
If nothing else, it looks like I at least had the punchline to this story right all these years – no matter how useless you may thing your junk is, someone on Craig’s List will take it.
Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and if I don’t write again before then, have a Happy New Year.
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