The stupidity of people is astonishing at times.
It stuns me that some people can figure out how to draw breath.
I realize that I am kind of a dick and more than willing to think the worst of people, but this time, it is justified.
I would like you to meet Larry, Moe and Curly.
They are gentlemen of leisure in Marina Del Rey, California.
While the phrase “Gentlemen of leisure” usually describes pimps, in this case it describes the homeless.
Gentlemen of leisure is the first thing that came to mind when I saw them so it stays.
They are parked at a table for 3 outside of the Starbucks just across the way from the marina.
Homeless have 3 things to talk about. Just the 3 and nothing more. You can argue this one, but I listen to them a lot and I have yet to hear anyone break from this subject matter.
It is not often that I sit outside of a Starbucks.
I am always on a laptop and even on a cloudy day, it still fades the screen.
But for this three, I will make an exception.
And it all has to do with this phrase:
“Once my banker calls, my money issues are over.”
Here is why this phrase is an awesome one as far as conversation samples go.
Because the guy saying it is dressed in rags with really bad teeth.
And if that doesn’t scream meth at you, you might be half a tard to begin with.
I got my coffee and then hustled back outside to catch the show.
I know, its cruel, its bad karma, its judgemental, whatever.
Its still funny.
Larry, the down on his luck rich guy, has had a disagreement with his business partners.
It seems that he owns several companies, tech stuff, you know.
Anyway, his partners have tried to screw him out of his half.
Like the money is just piled up behind the office door, and while he was out, his evil partners just pushed it to the other side of the room and won’t give it back.
I would say its a childs view of how business works, but it doesn’t add in that distrusting meth factor.
Moe and Curly, have accepted all of his lies without blinking, that is a different side of the meth factor.
Right up until the final meth shoe drops.
“Bullshit.” Curly practically whispered it.
The effect on the table was dramatic.
Moe immediately drummed the table, happy and even yelled “OHHHH!”
Larry jumps up and is ready to fight.
“You calling me a liar?” His hands are curled into fists, except for the ring finger on the left hand, some sort of damage has it gnarled off to the side.
Curly has entered some sort of angry trance state and is staring straight ahead with a furious look on his face.
“I am saying bullshit!”
“Bet me, bet me.” Larry is now dancing from foot to foot, hand held out to shake on it. (Incidentally, this is EXACTLY how Fortune 500 CEO’s settle shit.)
“M-Fer! You don’t even have a cell phone!” That, it seems, is Curly’s whole issue with Larry’s tale.
Out of all of that, his lack of a cell phone is what red flags it?
And then the police arrive.
“Getting a little loud here, gentlemen.”
In my head, a gentle plea goes out.
(Officer, I totally respect what you do, but could you please go fuck off for 10 minutes?)
Not to be.
The presence of the local LEO has cut the debate short.
Homeless are crazy, but they have a basic understanding of what a bad idea it is to fuck around with the cops in the area.
In short order, Larry, Moe and Curly split up. Literally, they divi the compass into 3rds and each goes his separate way.
And as they left, one thought crept into my head.
At the next board of director’s meeting, Larry should lobby for some teeth.