Struggling small-time crook "Slick" Willie Barnett.

Lower-middle class criminal tired of living forged check to forged check

"I've been working the street for almost two decades and I've never even been able to put away enough money for a decent vacation, let alone start saving for retirement," said Barnett, inching back the curtain of his apartment window and covertly scanning the parking lot. "Between inflation and the cost of living in Chicago being what it is these days, I can forge an eight hundred dollar check I stole from some tourist on Monday and by the weekend I'll barely have enough [money] left to tip the strippers at the Crazy Horse. It's that bad. And this from a guy who doesn't even pay taxes, mind you."

Barnett, who has never married or had children, dropped out of high school at the age of 16 to pursue a life of crime – a career Barnett said he fully expected would secure for him a higher standard of living than could be afforded by pursuing a normal, legal vocation. However, after a number of failed money-making endeavors – namely, two botched bank robberies and an unsuccessful kidnapping, all of which led to multi-year prison sentences – the thrice-convicted Barnett long ago resigned himself to the less profitable but less risky life of a petty larcenist, working to make ends meet through short-con swindles, pickpocketing, check forgery and other fraud-related crimes.

"It's not a glamorous gig or anything, but it pays the bills," said Barnett, sifting through the credit cards of a recently acquired wallet. "Or at least it used to pay the bills. These days, with the economy in the shitter like it is, it's hard just finding someone to rob that actually still has a job. There's nothing more frustrating than ripping off a guy whose credit cards are already maxed out – which covers just about everybody these days."

In addition to the diminished earning power brought about by the sluggish economy, Barnett said the high price of gasoline has also made one of his best-paying rackets nearly unprofitable.

"It's almost not even worth it to deal in stolen cars anymore," said Barnett, shaking his head and packing his SlimJim and hotwiring tools into a box in his closet's storage area. "It takes at least fifteen gallons of gas to get a car to the chop shop that I work with in Michigan. At three bucks a gallon, the math just don't add up no more."

Despite living modestly in a one-bedroom apartment on Chicago's south side, Barnett's expenses are such that he must beg, borrow or steal at least $3,500 every month to simply keep his head above water.

"After paying rent, buying groceries, scoring dope and paying off the bookies, there ain't a whole lot left over," Barnett said, opening a lock box containing his minimal cash reserve, betting slips and other important papers. "When you live forged check to forged check like I do, you have to cut out such luxuries as dining out, going to the dentist or paying for cable."

Barnett went on to voice other frustrations regarding his financial position – frustrations not unlike those shared by the millions of legit lower-middle class Americans who live paycheck to paycheck.

"It seems like it's impossible to get ahead," Barnett said. "Just when it looks like you're finally going to get everything paid off and you might be able to stash away a few bucks, an unexpected expense comes out of nowhere, like bail money or lawyer fees or maybe Blackie from Miami finally tracks you down and threatens to break your legs if you don't come up with a payment – you know, typical life shit. Then, bam! You're right back behind the eight ball again – taking back cans for train fare until you can get your hands on your next [forged] check."

Although Barnett as a rule has never allowed himself to pull more than one job per week for fear of overexposure, his desire to break out of the rut of living forged check to forged check has recently caused him to rethink that guideline.

"If this damn economy doesn't pick up pretty soon I won't have much choice but to start looking for a second job to pull every week," said Barnett. "The real bitch of it is knowing that I'm partially to blame for this sorry state of affairs, because I actually voted for Bush. I know, I know – I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I thought for some reason that it might be good for business to have a fellow crook in the White House. So far it hasn't seemed to pan out – um, the 'good for business' part, not the 'having a crook in the White House' part. That part's worked out pretty well."

October 2005