True story from around 1992.
I’m stone broke, working as a tradesman. Have a ghetto apartment and a paid for, barely operating vehicle.
Go to the grocery store with my weekly, perhaps $60 max grocery list. (This is before the net - I’d be much wiser with that food money now)
In front of me, mind you I’ve just busted ass for twelve hours, is an illegal alien, well dressed, with two shopping carts packed to the top with t-bones(I kid you not) and all manner of delicacies. He whips out his Food Stamp Card and strolls off to his late model SUV.
Yep, that was an early lesson for me.
Those that know how to game the system live quite well.
Until they’re caught.