Maruf
Why Maruf?
Why Why Why?
I mean it was just $20k. And it was, ultimately, victimless.
The short story is drugs. Or strippers. Or hookers. There seemed some of those. And maybe other things I wouldn't really know about.
At first, Maruf was cool as a cucumber. He picked Sarah up late from the airport - this on his very first time doing so. She was fuming. As only Sarah could be; I wouldn't have dared step foot in that car if it were me.
Anyhoo, Maruf dropped her off and, well, upon second thought, here comes Sarah calling him for another pickup. And so, there we all began.
Maruf drove us for nearly 11 years. I mean, it wasn't always him, he had a bevy of other drivers, like Q, who was nice, and some other guy who had played cricket, lost his wife, became a drunk, and eventually got kicked out of the strip club that was his local hang.
But Maruf drove us the most, he picked up my kids, more times than we can count.
When I told my youngest about what went down, she said, "Maruf? He was part of my growing up."
She looked distraught as if the world presented her with a new paradigm, one she couldn't unsee.
Maruf drove me sometimes from PBI to Miami. On one trip, he started explaining how he would organize hookers for men, a bit on the side, not like a pimp really but ya know, just connecting the dots. He said there were crews of hookers, not just any one type; there are the cheap frat boy hookers and the asian businessman type and the style for those who roll in billions and like it high class and in heels.
He said he would call one of them, they would call the others in, he'd get a kickback, easy peasy. Same thing with strip clubs. Doormen knew his name and he dropped off clientele. Little gimme gimme here, little gimmie gimmie there.
Anywaaaaaaaaay, so I get this email receipt for a drive with Maruf. And nope, wasn't me, that's weird. Kate my EA calls, Maruf says sorry it was a miskey. All good and tidy. Kate and me, well, we smell home cookin', and so let's go look at all of my credit card statements.
Lo and Behold, a year of charges, in smaller increments; like, say, $300 to PBI, but well, charged 60 times, on odd dates, when I wasn't around, let alone interested in a drive with my good friend, Maruf.
Also our corporate card was dinged to make matters worse. One of those transactions finance doesn't consider, just another car ride to somewhere.
I call Maruf. "Sir," he spouts.
Sir, for chissake, Sir.
I mean, it's 10 years of driving pal. Sarah mentions that maybe he felt twitchy last time he drove her, like...amped. Two kids at home, wife. On the road all the time, gambled somewhere in his dark past, parties for three days straight once, he tells me, says that's past him, he'll never do that again.
Maruf stammers says he'll look into it, send me the statements will you? He's got dozens of different company names he's charging to us. E&R Transportation, Atlantic Limo and the list goes on. He says, call Amex and tell them to refund you, then let's talk again.
Which I did and, well, thank you very much Amex it would seem you gave me all my money back, so who am I worse to wear, other than I no longer have someone to drive me to and fro.
Yes I filed a police report. Yes, I've followed up. Yes the cops say, 'Florida. It's always Florida,' before going back to their field reports.