Psychology of scams

My mom's refrigerator broke down, and I had to fix it, firstly because I chose and bought it myself once, and secondly, because I'm her son. The breakdown is minor, but alarming – every day a new modest puddle, the size of a puddle from an impatient dachshund, appeared from under the ailing unit… I found a suitable website on the Internet, called the repairman, and the next day I arrived at my mom's, so there would be someone important to puff up their cheeks and so the house would smell of a man who understands refrigerators. At the appointed time, a repairman in his fifties arrived with a small plastic suitcase. From the threshold, he declared that he was not going to take off his shoes and asked for shoe covers. I was surprised that only shoe covers, and not a tetanus shot, and handed him two cheerful plastic bags with a roll of tape. We went to the kitchen, the repairman greeted the sick refrigerator and said: - The call plus diagnostics costs 800 rubles, if we repair it, then all diagnostics are free. I nodded, the repairman quickly made himself a burrow behind the refrigerator and hid in it with his tester. The man received a call, and my mom and I heard such a half of the conversation: - Hello... yes... it's possible, everything can be done... and what is the diagonal of your plasma?... 65?.. good, let's see... well, I don't know how much, you need to look, maybe it's nonsense, the contact has come off, or maybe... excuse me, I'll be free, I'll call you back. My mom and I exchanged satisfied glances – we got a daring and all-capable repairman. And at that moment, I suddenly remembered how long ago – fifteen years ago, returning from some business trip, I started talking to one disgusting guy, and to top it off, drunk as a skunk. More precisely – he started talking to me, and I, choosing between: knocking him out with a blow to the head or occasionally nodding, chose to nod. He was talking some nonsense about how all Muscovites are rich suckers and he, a rural guy from the people, considers it his duty to "rip them off" a little bit. He even built a house on it. And he worked in Moscow as a repairman for everything that could break... He even gave me his simple "ripping off" scheme when he was drunk, I didn't really believe him then, but now, against the background of unfolding events, I remembered it in all details. Meanwhile, our repairman thoroughly poked the patient with the tentacles of the tester, grunted regretfully, crawled out, rustling with bags, from the burrow and tragically said: - If your refrigerator were a horse, I would advise you to shoot it. - What do you mean, it's not even two years old yet? - Well, look, I'll start with the main thing: the compressor is dead, the motor is still running, but judging by the winding, it has two or three months left and will stop. Let's move on, the heating elements of the defrost system flew off, the starting relay, also needs to be replaced. Well, and freon, to boot, leaked out, but this is a trifle, as they say – "if you've lost your head, you don't cry over your hair." So, 4500, 2700, 1900 plus work – 3000, it turns out – 12100. Right? I have all this in my car, if you want, I can do it, two hours and the refrigerator will be like new. But, I don't know, it's up to you. Mom tragically looked at me and whispered: - Well, now I'm without a refrigerator... refuse. Where is such a repair? It's cheaper to throw it away and buy a new one. But I imperceptibly, but very strictly winked at my mom and said to our repairman: - Two hours you say? Okay, start. We will repair it. I almost screamed from my mom's pinch, but I restrained myself. Repairman: - But keep in mind that 12100 is without replacing the motor. - I understand, I understand, let's hope it still runs, let's start, time is running out. The repairman shrugged, took the suitcase with the tester and went downstairs to his car for tools, compressors and other freon things. Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty, but the repairman still did not return, I called him on his mobile and a mechanical lady told me that my repairman is currently unavailable just like a Persian princess... I called again in an hour and gave up, the man disappeared without a trace, but in return I got a flashlight he had forgotten on the windowsill as a trophy. P.S. And I fixed my mom's frightened refrigerator myself inexpensively, with the help of a burnt match (cleaned the drain hole). Since then, the puddles have disappeared forever. Well, I took a large plate of my mom's dumplings as payment for the repair... © Grubas Source: http://