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This autumn, fall for Moth Stories as we travel across the globe for our mainstages. We're excited to announce our fall lineup of storytelling shows. From New York City to Iowa City, London, Nairobi, and so many more, The Moth will be performing in a city near you, featuring a curation of true stories. The Moth mainstage shows feature five tellers who share beautiful, unbelievable, hilarious, and often powerful true stories on a common theme. Each one told reveals something new about our shared connection.
To buy your tickets or find out more about our calendar, visit themoth.org slash mainstage. We hope to see you soon. Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm Chloe Salmon, your host for this episode.
I love a good mystery. Or a crime story. Or a heist. Give me motive, means, and opportunity any day. There's nothing like trying to figure out whodunit. A tough thing, though. I am a well-known scaredy cat. When I was a kid, my mom threatened to ban Nancy Drew books from our home because I would read them and get so scared that I could not sleep.
You know, Nancy Drew, solver of terrifying crimes such as, can Nancy locate a missing clock? And can Nancy figure out who owns this misplaced suitcase on her cruise ship? If I can get that worked up about spunky girl detectives locating lost property, you can imagine that scary, gory crimes are not my bread and butter.
So in this episode, we've got two stories of tiny crimes. Nothing horrifying happens. Nobody gets hurt. It's all the rush and mischief of trying to get away with it without any chance of me or you losing sleep. First up is Adriana Araso. She told this at a New York City Story Slam where the theme of the night was 9 to 5. Here's Adriana live at the Moth. I was 8 years old when I had my first job.
And yeah, I was precocious. And I was also a multi-hyphenate. I was an entrepreneur, a fighter for justice, and a criminal. I grew up in Colombia at a time where the government was very much protecting national industries, so there were no imports allowed. And for a second grader, that meant toys and candy were locally produced.
So while American kids were growing up with Barbie being a veterinarian or like an astronaut running an ice cream parlor and having a Malibu beach house, I had Valeria. And Valeria, sure, was more ethnically correct, but Valeria came as a set with a husband and two kids. Valeria had no aspirations. And she also had no sense of fashion, like a weird neck-to-ankle gown misshapen.
Velour, burgundy. She wasn't going places, poor thing. The candy was also an issue because, well, kids here had like that bubble gum, like it was like a tape thing or like shaped with things and flavors. We had white squares, mint, and cinnamon. Not even like spearmint, winter, no, just mint.
and an orange gummy. Just orange. Like, no one's favorite flavor is ever orange. It's like the worst Starburst. And we had that. So I was also middle class, which meant my parents had the money for the expensive school, but not the money for the expensive American vacation.
So my classmates were coming from America with all this awesome shit, and I was like, with my orange gummy, like cursing the world. And I asked my mother, like, why this injustice was happening. And she explained very lovingly, you know, it's the law.
You know, it's illegal to buy and sell imports. So that's what it is. And I was aggravated, you know, I was incensed by this injustice. And my dad, awesome guy that he is, he was like, kid, I like your spunk. I like what I see. I'm going to get you your American candy. And I was like, bright eyes, full of hope. Daddy, are you going to change the law? And he said, no, we're going to break it.
Yeah, my dad's awesome. So we hop in the car and we drove to where the smugglers were. And the smugglers were in a weird strip mall and they smuggled everything. Toys, candy, apparel, extra, everything. It was amazing. It was exhilarating. I was like, I'm breaking the law. I'm only eight. So my dad gave me $2 or like $5, I don't know, the equivalent of whatever in pesos. And he was like, go get some candy.
And when I stepped in, I was like, "No, Dad, give me $50." And he was like, "Aren't you greedy?" I'm like, "No, I'm gonna buy this candy and sell it at school." So my dad said, "Well, if it's for that, I'm gonna lend you the $50 and you're gonna pay it back." It was a good morning. Anyway...
I took my candy, I took it to school, and it sold in seconds. Because, well, candy was good, obviously, but also because it was like that sense of breaking the rules, right? I was like, guys, this is illegal candy, first of all. And also, we're in a very Catholic school where chewing gum and selling stuff is forbidden. Like, we could all get expelled for chewing candy. So, like that sense of danger, you know what I'm saying? And my business thrived.
thrived for three years. Thank you. And then the government changed and opened the economy for imports. Yeah, and I was already 11, so I could like get it, right? And I had grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle. Oh, I didn't like it. I was worried.
So my dad was like, you need to milk this. Just sell as much of this shit as you can while you still can do it. And I did. And you know what was interesting? Even after we got imported candy and you could go to the supermarket, go anywhere and legally procure this candy, the kids were still buying my candy. Why? Tax evasion. My candy was cheaper because my people were not paying taxes.
So it's not so much what you sell or what you give people, but how you do it, right? These kids were so excited about doing illegal shit that they didn't care that it was easier for them to get their parents' money and buy their candy. They didn't care that they had to risk getting expelled or whatever the hell the nuns were going to do to us.
So that's it. Lessons in business tonight for you all. Thank you. That was Adriana Araso. Adriana is a storyteller born in Colombia who has called New York home for the last 15 years. She works in finance and media, telling serious stories by day and goes to the moth to tell the unserious ones by night.
I know I said we were hearing stories of tiny crimes, but whoa. To me, Adriana had nerves of steel. The candy smuggling game is not for the weak. My Nancy Drew crybaby self could never. Up next is Emily Popper. She told this at an LA Story Slam where the theme of the night was challenge. Here's Emily. When I was in my early 20s, my little brother Ted and I decided we wanted to take a vacation together.
We were at that point where you're learning to be an adult in the world. We didn't have good jobs. We didn't have any money. So it had to be a really cheap vacation and we decided we would camp together outside of Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia. And then we'd go spend the day in Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia. Because Ted and I had both been to Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia as public school children,
at which time we perceived it to be free. It's not free. It's actually very, very expensive. So when we arrived, we were chagrined to find out that the cheapest ticket, which was well beyond anything we could afford, it got you into a few exhibits. And the middling ticket got you into all the exhibits, but you still had to buy your own overpriced lunch, your own overpriced dinner, and you could not see the governor's mansion.
And then the Governor's Pass, which was beyond any hope or dream of ours. That one got you into every exhibit, lunch was included, and you got a tour of the Governor's Mansion. Ted and I couldn't afford any of these, so we just decided we would spend the day walking around the outside perimeter of Colonial Williamsburg. And as we were doing that, Ted noticed that the back door to the Barrel Makers was open.
And we didn't even have to speak. We just slipped inside and we watched him make a barrel. We were so excited because it was free for us. And just so you know, everything following is unethical, but I believe that ethics are relative depending on how much money you have. So...
We watched the barrel maker make a barrel. Ted asked, what precisely are those barrels made of? And I asked, are there any women barrel makers in Colonial Williamsburg? And then we left the barrel makers, and as we were going out the front, now we were inside Colonial Williamsburg. We couldn't go into any exhibits because you needed a pass to go into each one.
But as we started to walk around, Ted said, "Sam, did you notice that governor's pass on the fence inside the Barrel Makers?" And I said, "I did not." And he said, "Well, I did. I got a good look at it." And I was like, "A good look?" And he said, "A very good look. I saw the name." And I was like, "Cool. What was the name?" And he said, "Lima Fluke."
And that's when I remembered that Ted has dyslexia. And it's very difficult for him to quickly put letters together. But I was determined. And so I pressed him a bit and he said, "I don't know, I guess it could have been Lima Tluc." And for whatever reason I said, "Yes! It's a German name. Lima Tluc. She's a German tourist."
So I went and tapped on the barrel maker's fence, and the little colonial lady in the bonnet peeped over and she said, "Can I help you?" And I said, "Guten Tag." "I've lost my governor's pass. Do you have a governor's pass you found?" And she said, "Yes, I do. What's your name?" And I said, "Lima Tluc." And she said,
"Well, that's kinda close to what I have here." She said, "Can you spell it?" And I said, "L-Y-M-A-T-L-U-K." And she said, "That's almost it. Is this you?"
And I said, "Yas!" And I took it. Now as she was holding it out to me, I saw clearly it said, "Lin A. Flock." That was the name. I still have the governor's pass.
Anyway, we only needed one between the two of us because what you do is you go up to wherever you're going and you say, "Vas is los, Ted? "Vere's your governor's pass?" And then he says, "Oh no, I musta lost it, Lima." And then you both go in and it's fine. So we spent the whole day at Colonial Williamsburg. We took a tour of the governor's mansion and we got a free lunch, which to me is overcoming a challenge.
That was Emily Popper. Emily took fourth place in the Open Screenplay Short Film Contest and received honorable mention in the NYC Midnight Contest. San Francisco's Marsh Theatre produced her solo show, and she's had multiple scripts make it through the final rounds at the Sundance Film Festival.
That's it for this episode of Tiny Crimes and the people who are bold enough to commit them. Remember, if you liked the stories in this episode, be sure to share this podcast with a friend and tell them to subscribe so they can take a listen as soon as it comes out. Thank you to our storytellers in this episode for sharing with us and to you for listening. From all of us here at The Moth, have a story-worthy week.
Chloe Salmon is a director at The Moth. Her favorite Moth moments come on show days when the cardio is done, the house lights go down, and the magic settles in. This episode of The Moth Podcast was produced by Sarah Austin-Ginness, Sarah Jane Johnson, and me, Mark Sollinger.
The rest of the Moth's leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Christina Norman, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Glucce, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant Walker, Leanne Gulley, and Aldi Caza. The Moth would like to thank its supporters and listeners. Stories like these are made possible by community giving. If you're not already a member, please consider becoming one or making a one-time donation today at themoth.org slash giveback.
All Moth stories are true, as remembered by the storytellers. For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story, and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org. The Moth Podcast is presented by PRX, the public radio exchange, helping make public radio more public at prx.org.