Have You Seen This Man?

If you do, hide your wallet.

Danger, Danger Will Robinson!!!

As I tell this tale, I hate to admit it, but I was tricked and conned by this sweet, innocent face with one of the most convoluted stories ever told.  As I look back on it, I could kick myself around the block, every time I think about it.  But let us not get ahead of ourselves.

File this story under sociopathic diva complex.

This gentleman goes by the name of Damien Storm, or at least he did in Knoxville.  Introduced to Knoxville society as a well renowned make-up artist and former child star.  And indeed, that part was believable, since he had pictures of himself with many different stars.  He ensconced himself in a local modeling agency, and with his confident approach, do or die attitude, and overblown diva mentality, he always seemed to be a blur of activity, making deals and creating more and more work for folks, and of course, the check was always in the mail.

Not hard to believe that such a high powered mover and shaker could not be contained by the provincial offerings of a little town like Knoxville.  So, were we surprised when his fame and fortune would take him to the Windy City?  Not a bit.  Made perfect sense.

(File this part under listen to your gut, and don't let people talk you into things.)

The stories began to unravel the weekend that Mr. Storm was to leave town.  I had just gotten home from a very nice dinner with my best friend, and was in for the night, when I got a call from Mr. Storm, telling me that his lover, Mario Lopez, wanted to make his last night in town special, so he had rented a limousine.  He was going to the Electric Ballroom by himself, and wanted some company.  Now, I was in my flannels.  Full belly.  Should have stayed at home.  Wanted to stay at home.  But no, dumb me felt sorry for him going by himself, and he promised that we would not be out late, which actually was true...but I jump ahead.

Get to the Electric Ballroom, which is a very nice place for a drag queen club, which is not my normal venue, but it is Damien's last night out, what the hell.  Free drinks, some very talented drag queens, some other mutual friends of Damien's and mine, and I'm thinking, well this is not too bad when this short muscular bald white man comes up to me and says, "You need to come with me."  To which I reply, "Why?"  We go back and forth a bit, and he finally says "Do you know Damien Storm?  He wants to see you outside."  We are walking to the door, and he is lecturing me on him being security and when he says come, I need to come, and I am explaining to him that I do not know him from anybody else, and unless he is going to give more information, I was in my rights to sit right there until he identifies himself, unless he has on a uniform, and we get to the exit doors of the club and I am looking at 4 to 6 of Knoxville's finest, in more uniformed regalia than I could have ever wanted, and Damien in the back of a police car.

(File this part under if it looks like this and smells like this, it probably is this.)

Now, let me say that the police officers were as nice as they could be.  Since the limo charge was over $250.00, the company called to confirm the charge, and the charge was classified "unauthorized."  Not stolen, unauthorized.  And the tale began.  You see, Damien never had a checking account, or even a drivers license.  Every thing was always either cash or through some one else's account, like his mothers.  So, his story was that Mario sent money to his former childhood Nanny's account, and he used her credit card, because that is how they transferred money secretly.  And since the nanny did not speak English well, (and I did talk to some foreign woman on the phone who said that the charge was ok) I somehow believed that this was probably the stupidest way to handle money, but with this flaming diva, sounded dumb enough to be true.  But the police would not release Damien until the limo was paid off in cash.  The tears started to flow.  He just could not imagine spending the night in jail, his mother was out of town until Monday, he also had a big check coming, such a cascade of ways that money was coming to him before the weekend was over, and at the latest, I would have my money by Tuesday. So another of his friends took us to the money wall, followed by the white stretch limo where I paid the limo driver off, and got taken home by our mutual friend.

Now, have I seen the money?  It is more likely that I will see the moon, close up and personal, than the money.  Though he did try and maintain the charade for some time, supposedly there was a money order, then there was a check, then his mom was dropping by cash.  Bunch of gypsies.

So, this is my public service announcement to the acting, talent and modeling community, as well as to the numerous celebrities such as Malik Yoba, Barbara Eden, Downtown Julie Brown, Delta Burke and, of course, Mario Lopez, whose names and pictures he drops as his calling card.  Damien is a charming guy.  If I saw him again, I might even buy him a drink, after I went to my bank safety deposit box and locked up every thing of value that I owned, with the exception of enough for a drink; under that circumstance, I might even have a conversation with him again.  He is pretty smart and can be very amusing.  However, there is quite a litany of folks here who have been taken to the cleaners in one form or another.  I think that the current Damien Damage Toll is in excess of $40,000.  All things considered, I guess he liked me, since he took me for so little.  This was the Guido version of 6 Degrees of Separation.  And Mario, if I have got this all wrong, and this is some big misunderstanding and Damien is really your boy, you owe me $280.00.  

Got a Damien Tale?  Drop me a line.

dumbnomore@yahoo.com

MORAL

Beware of big people with big stories, who wear more makeup than you do, but have no visible means of support.

And finally, a word to Damien (that is not his real name.)  They say that there is no such thing as bad publicity.  Let's test that out, shall we?

Let the games begin!

Ironically, after I posted this website, ABC Dateline did a story on another con-man.  Though Damien is not in this league, yet, perhaps this is what he wants to be when he grows up.  

Primetime_Fake_Rockefeller_feature

Webmistress update

I first posted this page over three years ago after I first encountered the felonious "Mr. Storm."  I did not really pursue this beyond creating a page to vent a bit, but over time I did get letters from other victims.  Recently I have gotten a flurry of emails letting me know that Mr. Storm is working his little con in Chicago, New Jersey and New York.  His lying capacity seems to be growing exponentionally.  

His current lie (as of  Winter, 2002) is that he is the key make-up artist to Britney Spears, Christina Aguilara and in a recent update to his resume, the make up artist to Halle Berry for the Oscars. Not true, but not much he says is.   However, he apparently has convinced newspaper reporters in Chicago and Nashville that he is a major talent in the fashion world.  I probably would have ignored him for a while longer, but he seems to want to throw down the gauntlet.  If you have met this guy and think I am mad and making all this up (if I'm lying, I'm flying...), please, please, please (James Brown moment...)contact me.  dumbnomore@yahoo.com   If you have a Damien tale, please let me know.

Click on the computer to see some of the correspondence I have received since I first posted this page. 

The Damien Letters

click below

Also, several of you readers have backtracked to find my real identity, and I have nothing to hide, just initially put the page up to vent a bit, but it seems to have taken a life of its own.  But if you want to know who I am, feel free to visit my web pages which are far more relevant to those of us who believe in non-larcenous commerce.

dumbnomore@yahoo.com