Los Angeles/Lake Tahoe Petty Thief and Con Man, Mark Chodos

I once bought a lemon from a Los Angeles petty thief by the name of Mark Chodos.  A broken-down black Saab that this clown, Mark Chodos, sold me.  I should have known better but what to do when you are twenty five and you fall for a con artist. 

What ever made me think of this loser whose name I choose to defame?  Well, spring cleaning of coarse.

I was living on Canyon Country Road in what looked like a tool shed. My roommate at the time was a male who would later be crowned, Joe Millionaire.  An adventurous traveling partner, Joe and I drove cross-country from the east coast, sharing his Jeep Eagle as well as platonic living space for one long month.

Get to the point. I was doing something no one ever does in L.A.; I was walking to a corner store for a bagel.  No bagels.   I sat at one of the outdoor picnic tables in front of the store, pen and a pad of paper in hand.  And then I heard this voice:

"You know The Doors used to write their songs here" (insert cheesy construction guy smile).

Today, that statement would have been a loud cue for me to walk away from a guy with the world's worse pick-up lines.

We started talking and I told him that I was looking to buy a used car. Casanova tells me he has a 1990 black Saab for sale "in perfect condition".  In a moment of severe desperation, I actually agreed to meet him for a margarita that night. Bad move.

So I meet him and he kisses me that night.  The drinks must have been strong. I was young, stupid and attracted to a sleazy L.A. con man yet I never believed it at the time.

The following afternoon, he picked me up in the used car so I could "test drive" it.  And later that evening we had Chinese take-out at his mother's house whom he still lived with.  Another red flag.

On my way home, I agreed to buy the car.  The following morning I gave him 800.00 and I would follow up with future payments.  Later that evening we met for dinner at his place and he accuses me of rummaging through his belongings and stealing the money back from him.  Another red flag.

Psycho.

The car was in my ownership no longer that 24 hours and it breaks down.  Dead.  Kaput.  Lifeless.

I call him.  I get no answer. That following day, I have a friend's boyfriend stop at his house.  No answer. 

Then all of a sudden, he pulls up to the tool shed of an apartment that I lived in an he said he would take the car to a shop. 

He split with the car and my money.  I took him to small claims later that year and there was a judgment made against him.  But I still saw no money. I'm hoping that in the age of Googling, this story may just resurface in his future (there's always room for a little revenge.

The moral of this story?

Never befriend a guy from Mulholland Drive by the name of Mark Chodos.