(45) 'The Continuing Con of King Ken!'

[Ken]

Someone close to my wife once spoke to her about seeing me at some social function.  He told her that he had watched my interaction with the dozen or so of my staff who were with me and he commented on how happy they all were.  Apparently he later reached a conclusion on how I achieved this harmonious state of mind amongst my work colleagues and he informed Jenny of my secret.......I had conned them into thinking they were happy.  When Jenny asked him to elaborate on this she received the wink wink, say no more treatment, as the speaker knowingly tapped his nose.  My darling wife was to tell me later that she had often heard me described as an over confident bullsh*tter, but she'd never heard anyone describe me as what was in real terms a 'Happiness Conman!'

I would never call myself a con man but I would proudly own up to being a convincing man.  One of my staff who happily fell foul of my convincing tongue was a young giant called Glenn Tappendon.  He stood several inches above six feet tall and was, to put it politely, very solidly built.  He was the perfect person for a role I needed someone to play, and although it was not in his nature to do what I wanted, I convinced him to do so.  The advantage I had over all my retail rivals was my ability to bulk buy, so in the summer of 1978 I launched a massive leaflet campaign boasting of the incredible bulk buying power of our company. At the top of each leaflet was a drawing of a super hero type character who I had called 'The Incredible Bulk', and below him the leaflet gave details of the huge reductions that were only available from my shops. These leaflets were handed out by a group of pretty girls throughout the towns where I traded and running amongst them on selected Saturdays was big Glenn, aka 'The Incredible Bulk'.  It didn't take much to convince Glenn to cover himself in green stage paint and to wear clothes that were ripped and torn.  I know he enjoyed the pantomime frights he gave to many delighted youngsters and to their money spending parents.  By the time the warning copyright letter arrived from the Marvel comic group we had achieved our sales objective and the Incredible Bulk, having done his job so well, immediately ceased to exist.

Another memory of my time working with big Glenn occurred in a pub.  It was in 1979 and we were playing pool when two enormous chaps, one of them even bigger than Glenn, placed some money on the side of the table.  We ceded the table to them when our game was over as politeness dictated and sat down to watch them play. Before long Glenn challenged me to another game and having placed more money on the table he waited for them to cede the table back to us.  However, when their game was over they immediately began a second game and one of them stacked enough coins on the table to last the evening. I suggested to Glenn that he inform them that it was now our turn and although he did so, he did so without authority in his voice.  It was obvious their size and manner had intimidated Glenn and because his words were ignored I stood up.  I said to them, "After you finish playing this game, it's our turn", and the tone of my voice said this was not open to negotiation.  At this stage dear reader I request that you keep reading, for this is no wishful thinking tale of my heroics and all will soon become clear.  Big Glenn looked terrified as the biggest of the two pool players glared at me and snarled it was their table for the night.  I said nothing but I know I was smiling as I remained standing, full of confidence and just waiting for their game to finish.  

As their game continued a frosty silence enveloped the whole Pub and I could hear the sound of the clock ticking.  The atmosphere was such, one almost expected Lee Van Cleef to walk in the door with his guns blazing.  I swear at one time a ball of prairie tumbleweed rolled across the bar.  Poor Glenn was ashen but I just stood there, supremely confident that I would be the next person to play.  As soon as the game was over I put our coins in the slot and started to set up the pool balls, telling Glenn to fetch two cues as I did so. Turning to the the dumbfounded duo I said I would call them when it was their turn again. I then lectured them, saying no one should try to hog the table so stop acting like selfish children. With a look of puzzlement and a few choice words of hostility, both of the bully boys meekly sat down to wait their turn. I then proceeded to thrash Glenn at pool, for he found it hard to hold a cue properly with shaking hands and, I suspected, soiled underpants!

I knew Glenn would tell all of the staff of my activity of that night and he did.  I refused to enlarge on the story but what none of them knew was that I had recognised one of the arrogant bullyboys. The first clue had been in the colour of both their blue shirts and the second was the memory of once seeing one of them at an accident near my Walton on Thames shop. The bullyboys, I had soon realised, were off duty Police Officers out for an evening of pool, so there was no way they could risk any trouble.  So neither I nor Glenn were ever under any  threat to our physical welfare, although poor Glenn never knew it and I did.  Hence my act of apparent bravery.  I suppose one could argue that my action's of that evening were those of a bulls*tter, I would prefer the word opportunist.  However, although I would not accept the word conman, I'd happily agree with the word convincer for my bluff on that evening in 1979 convinced two would be bullyboys to behave like decent human beings!

The years have flown to 1984 and I am no longer successful in the financial sense.  Between looking after her family and a house full of lodgers my busy wife has a welcome guest in our now modest home.  It is the same guest who years before had reached the conclusion that I had conned my hard working staff into thinking they were happy.  The man is genuinely concerned for my wife's well being and he shakes his head in puzzlement at her positive reply to the question he had asked.  "You cannot possibly still be happy," he explodes, and then adds in a frustrated voice, "Kens conned you into thinking you're happy!" Later, Jenny told me that she was laughing when she responded to her beloved brother John, that she hoped I'd continue to hoodwink her with my successful conning ways for many years to come!"

PS
It's now, June, 2022, and dear John has been dead for several years.  I'm personally suffering from advanced liver cancer and I'm told my time on earth is limited.  My wellbeing requires 24 hour care and it's mostly down to John's sister, my Jenny, to see all is well with the no longer mighty me. But I'll let you into a little secret, the two of us are still happy, so somehow I'm still able to con her and hoodwink myself that life's still well worth living. May this happiness con of mine continue for many months to come!                                                            

[Ken]

This memory from the late 1970's at first seems like an egotistical rant about myself, it isn't, so please read on.  It's about a fun time of my life enjoyed with some good people and my unique ability to con people into thinking they're happy.