Wednesday, Aug. 29, 2007 | 7:16 a.m.
CHRIS MORRIS / LAS VEGAS SUN
The stereo salesman in an SUV ambushed Brady Planz, shouted at the 19-year-old idling on Maryland Parkway. This business was urgent. The nervous, teeth-gnashing guy said he accidentally ordered an extra home theater system, and he had to get rid of it fast. Otherwise his boss would keep it for free and that didn't seem fair.
Planz bit for $300. Hook, line, sucker.
It's called the "white van scam." It's a classic con that works by playing human reason against its own weaknesses, and in so doing, shows us something of ourselves. Our easy vulnerabilities.
So although it's not every day that one has the occasion to buy electronics from the back of a stranger's SUV, Planz believed the $2,300 price tag and thought the sale seemed like a steal.
Police say the scam happens all the time. (Someone tried to hustle Metro spokesman Marty Wright once.) But the bylaws of Buyer Beware don't give officers much leeway. At best, they write citations for operating without a business license. That's if they can find the scam artist in question.
But back to Planz, because what else did he have to do at 10 a.m. Thursday ? Visit the financial aid office at UNLV? That could wait.
The scam is always a variation on the same theme. Someone approaches you in a car - classically, a white rental van - with electronics to sell.
Bizarre-brand merchandise falsely marketed as high quality. Goods they must move quickly lest someone else gets them, a boss or anybody easy to begrudge.
Payment is cash, even if you must drive to an ATM. No receipt.
The guy who stopped Planz asked him to add $20 for beer money.
Planz refused. That bit of backbone wouldn't lessen the sting when he got home, Googled the brand name DiVinci and discovered, like most victims, the system sells for far less than he paid and is considered a sham brand on scam information sites.
Planz had plans to resell the speakers for a profit. Now he feels like an idiot. That's the coup de grace: Who would report a rip-off that, in retrospect, seems so foolish?
The seduction starts with a sense of urgency. Buy now or never. High Pressure Sales 101.
Then the very sneakiness of the situation, the stranger who wants to "pssssssst" sell you something, builds a sense of trust in the buyer. Bonding by sharing a secret.
Then the salesman exploits our private resentment for rank. The idea of some boss or superior getting stuff for free is intolerable.
And maybe the person buying knows the line about the extra stereo is a lie. Maybe he thinks it's stolen and pretends to play along, all while being played himself.
This is how cheap speakers are quick-sold out the back of a car to someone who, five minutes earlier, had no intention of spending too much money on an item he didn't know he needed.
Planz hasn't opened the box holding the speakers. He might find a brick inside.
He will have to figure out what to do with the stuff when he gets off work, a job in which he is, yes, an ambitious salesman, selling time shares.
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