Strangers With Candy

If you're reading this and you know me, you'll know that I will do basically anything for a dollar. I would say that doesn't include taking my clothes off for money but you and I both know that's a lie.

I acquired most of my wealth from early age selling counterfeit Louis Vuitton bags out of the trunk of my Buick Century back at Matignon. Thanks to my Nextel, I was able to get a wholesale rate from my very nice friend "Kay" down on New York City's Canal Street. From there it was a parlay into the entertainment industry where no job was too small. I consider my work ethic to be pretty amazing. I have held a steady job at the same company for 8 years and have worked everyday since I was 11.  If anyone asks me to do an event or a promotion, chances are if there is money behind it, you won't hear me say no. (ie- Grand Opening of a Big Y Supermarket or Circle K Gas Station)

So it was no surprise that I accepted a gig hosting the 2012 Tucson Fiesta Market Opening this past weekend. I'm still learning about Tucson but everyday there is something new and exciting to hate about this place and Saturday was no different. Since tourism to Mexico has slowed down due to drug carteling and mass murders, the brilliant folks of Arizona thought it'd be smart to give Mexican merchants ONE DAY VISAS (because I'm sure they'll go home) to come into border towns such as Tucson and sell their wears. I figured this would be a great time to stock up on Christmas gifts for family and friends...who doesn't love a pinata full of cocaine?




Pretty Much Sums It Up


I arrive early at the event and start to walk towards the staging area to meet my bilingual crew when I get the strange feeling I'm being followed. I continue thinking it will subside, but it begins to get worse. Now, I was jumped before and have seen one too many episodes of Buffy The Vampire Slayer to know that if your instincts are telling you somethings following you, you best be prepared.

I reach for my wooden stake and turn around quickly. I see nothing- then glancing down quickly I notice a small Mexican girl...who couldn't be older than 6. A cute, dirty looking thing with big brown eyes that have never seen the inside of a Public School System. She looks up at me... and since I love instagram, I took a picture of her:
























Ladies is pimps too

 







Girl:
Chicle?

Me:
What?

Girl:
Chicle Señor? Chicle?

Me:
I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're saying. Run along now.

Girl:
Chicle?

Thank God Siri speaks Spanish Chicle = GUM

Me:
ooooh, you want some gum? I'm so sorry, I don't have any gum.

Girl:
No Señor , Chicle!

As she says this she opens her hand and shows me 2 packs of gum that look like they were run over by a Dodge Hemi.

Girl:
Chicle es one dollar

WHOA bitch, you're trying to SELL ME BEAT UP GUM?? I'm all set.

Now bear in mind this has NOTHING to do with my lack of generosity towards small people and food. Every year I stalk up on enough Thin Mints from those little cookie peddlers the Girl Scouts to last me until they reach my door again. Each Christmas I buy plenty of Peanut Brittle from Eagle Scouts (yes, I realize that gay people can't be troop leaders but c'mon...it's Peanut Brittle) And anyone that came to a cookout of mine this past summer will know I bought enough Carmel Popcorn to send two small buses full of retards to summer camp...this is about product value and return on investment.

I try very hard to tell her I do not want to buy her gum but she persists.

Girl:
Two packs Señor, two packs es one dollar

I enjoy a haggler. She's quite business savvy for someone that probably doesn't know her ABC's so I concede. FINE here is one dollar...thank you for your gum I'm about to throw away.

Suddenly...I was SURROUNDED. Oh shit I thought, the gum is laced with drugs and this was a DEA sting...I KNEW IT!!

No no, I was surrounded by tiny Mexican hustlers all clamoring for me to buy their gum as well.

Señor! Señor! Señor! Chicle Señor? SEENOMAN Chicle?  Señor! Señor! Señor! SEENOMAN Chicle! SEENOMAN!

I was dumbfounded. What could I do? Hit them? Pepper spray them? Use some of my MMA moves on them? Their toddlers for crying out loud!! I did what any self respecting person would do...I ran.

Through the burnt orange and yellow carpets, past the turquoise clay dishes and religious sculptures and nearly missing the mariachi band as I was MERE FEET FROM THE STAGE. They found me:

Please Señor! Please buy the chicle!

They had such sad, sad little eyes. I did feel bad for them since this was all they knew. I also knew there was a Pimp-like father figure sitting in a Ford Espisito nearby waiting for them to give him his cut so I knew these weren't offers I could really refuse. I gave them all $25 dollars in exchange for SO MUCH MEXICAN GUM I will never be able to eat it all...mostly because I'm giving it to everyone for Christmas presents.



Feliz Navidad to EVERYONE I KNOW!

The moral to my story is simple...never walk by yourself...never carry cash on you...and NEVER take candy from strangers.