The Hustler Who Taught Me to Fake It Till I Make It

In the summer of 2005, a young writer found himself in New York City, far from his Texas roots. He was working as an assistant to a literary agent, a job that didn't quite align with his dreams. He met a man named Marty Reisman, a self-proclaimed con artist and ping-pong hustler. Marty was a colorful character, always dressed in vintage Panama hats, tinted aviators, and custom-made pastel pants, with a cigarette dangling from his lips. Marty was not a mentor in the traditional sense. He had a shady past, claiming to have been friends with members of Meyer Lansky's Murder Incorporated gang. He boasted about hustling everyone from Montgomery Clift to the president of the Philippines at ping-pong. Despite his questionable background, Marty taught the young writer valuable lessons about reinvention and self-mythologizing.The writer learned to stop apologizing and start asserting himself. Marty showed him how to order off-menu items at a noodle shop, a small act of defiance that symbolized a larger lesson about taking what you want. The writer realized that in a city like New York, a certain amount of hustle, even if it's a bit of a con, is necessary to survive. The writer acknowledged that it's easy to feel overwhelmed when you're new to the city. It's a place where it seems like everyone else has a head start. But Marty taught him that you don't have to be born on third base to make it in New York. You just have to be willing to hustle. The writer admitted that he's not very good at ping-pong. He still loses bets to his 7-year-old. But he's grateful for the lessons Marty taught him. He learned that sometimes, you have to fake it till you make it. And in a city like New York, that's not always a bad thing.