“I am the artist,” Armando said, smiling broadly as we took a photo of him holding the works we had just bought. “See. This is my signature. Armando.”
Armando had approached us the same way many vendors had, but he carried a portfolio complete with various artworks. All nice stuff, ranging from monochrome reflections on Cuzco to colorful celebrations of Andean culture.
The drawings were about U.S. $30 each, so Wes bought one and I bought two. Armando took our money. He even let us hold the entire portfolio while he ran off to get change. When he returned, we took his photo. And we were on our way.
About an hour later, another teen approached us with a portfolio near the Mercado Central. He proudly displayed his creations, urging us to take a look.
“I am the artist,” he said. “See. It is signed ‘Miguel.'”
Then Wes spotted an exact replica of one of the works Armando had shown us. But instead of the signature “Armando” in the lower right, this one had “Miquel” in the lower left.
That’s when it hit us like a velvet Elvis that we’d been had, prompting us both to chuckle sheepishly. But I still like the prints I bought, even if I overpaid for them.
“The only difference,” I told Wes, “is that now I’ll buy cheaper frames for them.”
The beauty of this was that it allowed us to call bullshit on subsequent scammers who approached with portfolios and original artworks. And approach us they did. The look on their face was hilarious as they realized we had figured out the game and weren’t going to be fooled again.