There was this guy, Paul, in the building I lived at, total slimebag.
Real icky - the kind you feel like pouring Purell all over yourself every time you run into him, which unfortunately, was often as he was always around the lobby and out front the building and what not. Sticky fingers, major thief, on and off drug problems, couldn't be trusted with shit. All he did was lie - even when he was saying something that actually really was the actual truth, he couldn't help but wedge in a lie somehow. It was like lying was this compulsion for him, like he couldn't help himself, another addiction. And, like most compulsive liars, amazingly sloppy at it. Pathological lying is the one thing where practice does NOT make perfect. They're always so bad at it, I have no idea why they even bother. Yet for some reason, everybody else goes along.
"Never lend Paulie your money," they'd say.
Why would I want to lend him my money?
"Oh, just never do it, I lent him $40 months ago and he still hasn't paid me back, so don't lend him any money"
What would possess me or anybody in this galaxy to let him even look at my money? Ever?
I heard this from more than one person, IN my building, and from others in the neighborhood as well.
Nobody trusted him, nobody liked him, nobody wanted to be around him. Yet somehow, they still managed to talk to him. A lot. Hung out with him, even at their own place or his. He'd get invited to all the parties! By the people that hated him!
I even saw him helping out the mailman a couple of times, and I joked about it to said mailman as in, "Careful, he's got sticky fingers." Didn't stop. Around this time, I was getting calls from collection agencies looking for neighbors of mine, some no longer living there. A lot of college students, so they weren't around long term. Put two and two together, and I'd ask these callers if these packages and credit cards just happen to be ending up in his apartment.
He had managed to con the landlords to let him be a temporary super once, which lasted an entire 2 weeks. He'd have packages that arrived for people that weren't there at the moment to be left at his apartment to give to them later. So he kept up with that even AFTER he lost the superintendent gig. Like you need to be a Sherlock to figure this out? Anyways, I contacted the post office and said the mailman was relatively new so didn't know otherwise but this guy was trouble... Heck, it's ILLEGAL for anyone else to touch the mail.