"Oh yeah, he was interested all right, too interested, looking back now," exclaimed the president of a local amateur radio club too embarrassed to identify himself or his membership after being scammed by a ten-year old phony as twenty-five cent Buffalo Nickel.
"He looked a bit older than ten," allowed the red-faced club chief executive, much older, to tell the truth, gosh all hemlock.
"But you know, we've had such a tough time recruiting new blood, denial has a way of making you ignore your lying eyes.
"We wanted him to be ten. Desperately. So this bald, bearded, big bulbous gin-blossom nosed coot, despite all evidence to the contrary, was ten.
"Yeah, we showered him with radios. And antennas. Plus all kinds of great junkbox items a lot of us geezers would frankly covet and collect at hamfests.
"We coached him through his Extra. We put up his tower. Stacked his beams. Tweaked his legal limit amp and THEN SOME...I'm telling you, our club members never forgot what it was like to be a kid ham with nothing but paper route money and a dream
that someday he'd make DXCC."
"Then one day we noticed something.
"Our prize ten year old Extra had no participation trophies decorating his shack. Not one bleepin' one. Which is an impossibilty, because nobody gets to ten years old these days without a full china cabinet of participation tropies.
"So we OMs and YLs got suspicious and gave him bit of the old Third Degree. Sure enough, in short order he started blubbering like a seventy year-old who lost his lucky Bingo marker and flat-out confessed to everything."
No charges were filed.
The club in question decided it was better let the matter drop, let the lesson stand and move on to background checks and a full panel of medical tests before investing in another potential fraud.