What is it about me?

It doesn’t happen often but when it does I know the situation well. Tonight I’m in the supermarket and this guy comes up to me, introduces himself and before he can get the words out of his mouth I say “Sorry, no cash.” at which point he’s saying “I just want $3”. First of all, learn the difference between want and need. Second of all, just because I might look like an easy mark, I’m a son of a bitch and don’t you forget it.

What I’d like to know is what was it about me that this guy saw, I was just bagging some apples at the time. But then, people ask me for directions all the time, etc. I must look approachable. I’ll have to work on that. I’ve already got it down with Catholic priests – they’re afraid of me.

If they knew about me however, they might think twice. I’m the first generation of the family that wasn’t part of la cosa nostra. I do know I got both the temper, and the thug mannerism when I need them. In general they and karma have served me well through life.

I’ll never forget the incident that happened a little over ten years ago. I was out to dinner with some friends. My friend Chris was a country bumpkin, having grown up and was living in Little Compton, RI. One night we’re having a bite to eat at the Newport Creamery (They’ve been sold, changed, sold again, changed again, ad infinitum) on Smith St. in Providence, RI.

As we’re all walking out to the car this guy approaches us. The first words out of my mouth were “What do you want?” My friend Chris was flabbergasted, couldn’t believe I was that direct. Look, when you grow up in the city you get a little street wise. As above, in addition to temper and thug mannerisms, I also got the ability to smell a rat from a couple miles away.

Chris was also with us the night that the woman was begging for money and another guy in line said he’d give her $2 if she’d blow him. I’m not quite that crude, you have to do or say something pretty bad for me to mouth off.

Reminds me of the time when I was a kid. The local Mobil convenience store was a hangout and this one cashier was a real bitch that loved fucking Providence cops. One day she lit into me about something or another and I let loose. Called her every name in the book.

Couple days later my father is getting gas for his car and she tells him how I was disrespectful to her. His response what that she must have deserved it. Even my dad knows me though sometimes I wonder.

One thought on “What is it about me?

  1. Once agin, we are so alike on a subject.

    I have a good friend who seems to be an easy mark for these “types” of folks who need money. He is always handing out 5, 10 or even $20 to these people.

    I just ignore them. He calls me a bad liberal, I think I am actually helping out more by not handing out cash to people.


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