Miami's Fake Cash Flood: My Wet $20 Bill Adventure and the Secret Service Scoop

A few weeks ago, I did what I’ve done countless times: walked into my local Walgreens, paid with my debit card, and asked for $20 cash back. I stuffed the bills in my pocket with the receipt and headed home through a light sprinkle that quickly turned into a classic Miami downpour.

Soaked to the bone, I ran inside, emptied my pockets, changed clothes, and decided to order pizza. I was starving.

Thirty minutes later, the delivery guy knocks. Pizza, wings, garlic rolls—perfect. The total was $17 and change, so I handed him the damp $20 and sent him on his way.

I was three slices in when the phone rang. Unknown number. I answered, annoyed—nobody interrupts pizza time—but not wanting to miss something important.

“That bill you gave us is fake,” the voice said.

At first, I was confused. What bill? Then it hit me: the pizza shop.

“No, it wasn’t,” I shot back. “It was just wet from the rain.”

She insisted. Come in tomorrow and swap it for a real $20. I thought about blowing it off, but I like this place too much to burn the bridge.

Next day, I show up expecting to prove her wrong—now that it was dry. She runs one of those little marker tests. The ink doesn’t change color. Fake.

And honestly? By then it looked fake. The water had smeared the ink, turning it a dark, sickly green instead of the crisp light green of the real thing.

I took my counterfeit $20 and considered storming back to Walgreens to raise hell. But I had no proof they gave it to me. End of story? Not quite.

So I did what any self-respecting journalist would do: I decided to write about it.

Enter the U.S. Secret Service

I called the U.S. Secret Service field office in Miami and spoke to Special Agent in Charge Mike Fithen. He wasn’t surprised.

It’s not uncommon to run into counterfeit bills in Miami—far from it. “We arrest people weekly smuggling counterfeit money into the city,” he told me. Most high-quality fakes come from Colombia, Peru, and Mexico.

“Last week we arrested a guy entering the country with $66,000 in counterfeit money,” he said. “He was coming from Ecuador and the bills were made in Peru.”

Miami consistently ranks in the top five cities for circulating counterfeits—alongside New York City, Los Angeles, Chicago, and Houston.

I told him my story. He said the pizza shop didn’t follow proper protocol—they should have notified agents or local police, which would’ve triggered a visit to me to trace the bill’s origin.

After the initial shock of Secret Service knocking on my door wore off, I realized it would’ve made a great story.

Fithen explained why they hate when businesses just return fake bills to the passer: it lets counterfeiters refine their work. “They get to see their mistakes and perfect the design,” he said.

So he was disappointed the pizza place didn’t call authorities—which is why I’m not naming them here. I don’t want my favorite pizza joint getting an official visit over protocol.

(Though now I’m wondering if I’ll get one for writing this. My neighbors already talk enough trash about me.)

I offered to drive the fake bill to their field office. Fithen promised a thorough walk-through of the counterfeit investigation process. So maybe I’ll milk this for another article—still out $20, after all.

For more tips on spotting fakes, check the U.S. Secret Service guide here: uscurrency.gov/security.

Editor’s Note: Originally published June 27, 2011. Updated in 2026 with new photography; Matt Meltzer’s original writing remains unchanged.