Life's greatest mysteries.
“Money isn’t the root of all evil; the lack of money is the root of all evil.” I remember reading that in high school via Robert Kiyosaki’s Rich Dad Poor Dad. And I’m now nodding my head with co-signage just as I did when I first read it.
I respect hustlers. I truly do. Big ups to folks who find creative ways to obtain that cash (which happens to rule everything around me). However, I ain’t gonna lie. The search of said cash can have folks doing some strange things and people.
Case in point? Lenny.*
Now, Lenny was the neighborhood drunkard when I was a wee Cheeks. He looked like a taller and skinnier Flava Flav. No lie. Exactly like that. And he wore the tightest pants evah. To quote my girl way back when (regarding Lenny), “His pants so tight, he can’t even fart.” He’d hobble up and down the block holding the infamous “mysterious brown paper bag drink.” -_-
Sometimes, though, he’d have a shopping cart with him. Yup, he was one of those. Loitered the grocery story parking lots and kidnapped carts. He’s the reason why dollar stores use those carts with the huge pole attached at the top so that customers can’t take it out the door. Anyway, he’d cart this buggy up and down the block, going from door-to-door and soliciting his services. ANYthing he could think of.
Lemme take ya back… way back, back into time to one particular instance…
*Lenny rings doorbell*
(from upstairs) *Mama Cheeks checks window and sees him*
Mama Cheeks: *lets out Marge Simpson Sigh* (ok, I totally made that up for dramatic effect but I’ve always wanted my mama to do this and imagined she’d be the type of person to do it)
*I also do the quick “Jehovah’s Witness” window peek and stare at Mama*
*Mama Cheeks heads downstairs*
*I follow her*
*Mama Cheeks opens door with me peeking behind her*
Mama Cheeks: Hi, Lenny, what’s up? (I can hear the sigh in her voice… lol)
Lenny: Oh, hey um, Mama Cheeks… *stops to wave to me as well* … um, I got some stuff fuh ya here! I got a lot of stuff, I just went to the Swap-o-rama and –
Mama Cheeks: What ya got, Lenny? You know I don’t have much money… I’m tryin to save myself so –
Lenny: Yeah, yeah yeah, I feel ya. Um, I just got this. It’s fresh. *pulls out toddler-sized faux-fur coat*
*I give him the most side of side-eyes (pretty sure I actually turned to the side and looked at him out the corner of my eye) and look toward the fiery sun, knowing damn well it is the middle of July and about 50-lem degrees*
Mama Cheeks: *polite chuckle* Lenny, what am I gonna do with that? I don’t have any little children in the home.
Lenny: Oh, oh, you can give it to a cousin or a niece or a grandbaby or somethin’… This is brand new… this is like new…
*I hold back giggles*
Mama Cheeks: -_______- Um, no, that’s okay, Lenny, but thanks!
Lenny: Ya sure, because this is a fresh coat and — Ok. Can I get a square?**
Mama Cheeks: Oh, alrighty, Lenny. *hands him one*
Lenny: Aight, thanks, Mama Cheeks *waves to me* Bye, lil’ bit.
*I smile and wave in response*
Mama Cheeks: God Bless.
*Mama Cheeks closes door*
*I BUST OUT LAUGHING*
So, yeah, that was just one of the many examples in which he would try to squeeze a dollar out of a Chuck E. Cheese game token. He was a nice guy, doe. Like, I never felt in danger around him, in fact, I think he genuinely cared about his neighbors and we did of him. But, you know how you have that “special” family member that you still love? Yeah, that.
Pinchers, did ya’ll ever have THAT neighbor? The one who was pretty much infamous throughout the block? Whether they be a Nosy Nancy or a Crazy Carl… share in the comments. Sha’mone!
Love ya like Cher loves to believe in life after love,
Cheekie
“(pretty sure I actually turned to the side and looked at him out the corner of my eye)”
cracking up. in my sleep.
So my crazy neighbor was an old lady that I fondly referred to as “No Eyes”. She was/is so evil. She used to come out every time we were playing outside and start cutting her front lawn with mustache scissors. Yup, you read that right. Then she would yell “don’t play on my grass” whenever we would get 4 feet from her stoop. The reason she got the name “No Eyes” is because she always has those huge just came from the eye doctor glasses on. And I’m still convinced that it’s because she just has empty sockets filled with cobwebs under there. Aww dame, now i’m gonna have nightmares. Anyway, the bish has to be like 24,457 years old, but since the devil owns her soul (or she owns his) she looks exactly the same as when I was little. And she always has young men coming out of her house. So to recap: eye sockets, devil soul and a wild cougar turning out the young men. Evil thy name in No Eyes.
I should sue you! I almost choked on my lunch reading this comment. *slides onto floor*
LMFAO @ using mustache scissors to cut grass. Moments like that are what I wish I were a part of. AND a cougar. Lawd.
I put this on Twitter a few weeks ago but this dude who always visits someone in my apartment complex actually tried to sell me deodorant. It was Right Guard, the overly perfumed kind that is guarantee under arms of fire. No thanks boss man, I’m good. How about you chill on the hustling and watch your granddaughter that’s walking aimlessly in the street.
O_O Lawd. I cannot with him pushing armpit fire deodorant as his grandbaby lollygags about the streets.
“I give him the most side of side-eyes (pretty sure I actually turned to the side and looked at him out the corner of my eye)”
I immediately thought of this: http://i.imgur.com/rtvf0.gif
GREAT gif. My eyes wanna be Stewie’s when they grow up.
my parents have a neighborhood hustler. but he has legitimate hustles–yard work and any other outdoor maintenance. he’s missing most of his teeth, his breath almost always smells of beer, he always seems to have on the exact same outfit (dingy shorts, tshirt and trucker hat) every day but he’s the nicest person ever (despite his creepy “hey there [insert name that sounds like mine but isnt quite it]” Macaroni Tony greetings) and very dependable. my parents consider him the neighborhood watch–he keeps an eye on everyone’s house and always reports suspicious behavior.
See?! He sacrificed his teef to keep his neighbors safe! He’s a good man.
My neighborhood drunk guy’s name was “Cuz.” He was homeless who would help my dad with yardwork for food, cigarettes, and cash. He always ate off of disposable plates and had a special cup that no one else ever used. I’m not sure where that cup came from and I’m not sure if my mom was uppity or smart for imposing the “Cuz cup” rule, but I digress. He wasn’t allowed in the house, though I’m pretty sure my dad brought him in when no one else was home and I remember making him sandwiches, ramen noodles (I was like 11 and couldn’t cook), and plates of leftovers everyday after school. Sometimes I’d sit on the porch with him while he ate to get the cup back. During the cooler months, we still fed him and my dad always gave him extra clothes and would drop him off at the shelter or his hangout near the railroad tracks. I didn’t find out his name was Michael until he was hit by a train. He’d fallen asleep (presumably drunk) on the tracks and died from his injuries. Wow, I hadn’t thought of him in forever and that’s been almost 20 years ago. RIP Cuz.
First off, I love how his name was “Cuz.” Classic hood ish. And WOW @ the way he passed. Lawd…
i grew up in the burbs.
they woulda arrested those people.
So, that “square = cigarette” explanation was for you huh?
Lenny da Looter! This scenario is like everyday for me right now that I am currently living in the hood. smh. Love the story!
You live it everyday?! Lawd, next thing ya know, you gone be saying, “Don’t you trade places wit what I been thoo…”. Tee and hee.
Actually its my uncle. Ever since i was knee high to a duck if its some tedious or menial job that needed doing which ranged from building a porch to raking leaves he’d do it for a six pack of budweiser.
“Knee high to a duck!” YES. Classicness. Gotta love a hustling uncle.