Thursday, December 06, 2007

I'm suffering from a vitamin H deficiency, I'm afraid.

'H' stands for hustle, in this case. I swear, I feel like a rube surrounded by hustlers sometimes.. it even runs in my family. The ability to turn gripes into greenbacks is awe-inspiring to me. Sadly, I was born without the gene. I share the hustler's burning passion for a good deal, but lack the killer instinct needed to score such a deal most times. I usually stumble around hoping one falls in my lap, which does happen every once in a blue moon. The folks in my life, however.. look out. They are always on point.

My closest friend is a born hustler. Now, keep in mind I don't mean this in a bad way whatsoever. He just has an innate talent for turning a deal. He does it with everything.. vehicles, real estate, boats.. his father's the same way. They have a knack for seeing the possibilities in a given item, and using them to turn a profit. My girlfriend operates in much the same fashion. She turns stuff into gold. She's got a head for business that's beyond belief, and a dozen ideas in the works at any given moment. Damn near everything she touches scores a home run.. frankly, it boggles the mind.

My uncle, now.. he tops them all off. He operates as an under the table loan shop in a small town upstate. Everyone just knows if they need cash, go see him.. but take something of value. He's got a warehouse full of stuff, and an inventory in his head that's as accurate as an Excel spreadsheet. If he can't turn a buck with it, he won't touch it. Hell, he was even talking a deal on a Mercedes at my grandmother's funeral. With one of the other guests! If it were anyone else, I'd have been mortally offended.. since it was my uncle, about all I could manage to do was grin and shake my head. After all, you don't invite a lion to dinner and then cry when he eats your dog.

I wonder if I could find a vitamin H supplement...

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