the sting

A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions — Guy Noir, Private Eye.

The phone rang. It was 9 o'clock in the morning. "Is this David's Travel?" asked the voice on the other end of the line. I didn't recognize who it was at first. He was speaking in disguise. It was a private investigator. No, not Guy Noir. A real private investigator (with apologies to Garrison Keillor).

"Hey, I need a big, fancy, expensive hotel suite in the big city," he said. "Ya know, huge living room, separate bedroom, expansive views. Maybe even a grand piano. Got the picture? I need to check in today for a couple of nights. Can you get me something like that?"

I turned the thought over in my mind, wondering what this was all about, because my client did not play the piano.

"I gotta hold a business meeting," he continued. "The people I'm meeting with, I need to really impress them. They've got to think I've got big money to spend. I'm going to set them up."

"What do you mean?" I asked dumbly.

"They stole business secrets from the company that hired me. Now they're looking to sell those secrets for big money. They heard I was interested, and they want to meet with me."

"Oh," I said, suddenly getting the picture. "You're doing a Sting!" (Stuff they never taught in travel school or covered in my mentoring program; maybe they should add it next year).

How exciting! With visions of Guy Noir and Robert Redford running through my head, I found him the suite he wanted. Two thousand big ones a night, fully commissionable. I even got him the Virtuoso amenities and free breakfast. A travel agent's wildest fantasy!

So he checked in that afternoon to set up the room... microphones, hidden cameras, enough high tech to stock a RadioShack. Next day, his gentlemen callers came, secrets in hand, ready to sell if the bucks were big enough. There was my client, dressed in his brand new, shiny, silk suit. Had to look the part, especially if you get to buy the clothes on an expense account.

All I can say, he musta been a great actor. If it were me, I couldn't have kept a straight face. But our P.I. hero pulled off The Sting. He convinced them he was a multimillionaire businessman who wanted to buy their stolen secrets. The bad guys signed on the dotted line, not knowing they'd been had ... until they were served the next week.

Just another day in the exciting life of a travel consultant...

(This is a true story, told with the permission of the P.I., but the details are being left intentionally vague as there are both criminal charges and a civil suit pending.)


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travel consultant Virtuoso suite Guy+Noir Sting Robert+Redford Garrison+Keillor RadioShack high+tech private+investigator