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Monday, March 18, 2013

Part V: Wherein Boris Solidifies His Position in the Community as a Block-Headed Miscreant


We return now to our current diversion, The Jefferson Hillbillies.

You remember them, yes?  The family of lanky-framed, cranial-ridged miscreants that moved in just four houses down?

They’ve combined long-distance running with the five-fingered discount.

They’ve offered to relieve me of any spare change, which apparently is now in the five-dollar range.  Unless you don't have five?  Because three would work, too.

They’ve shown us how to break eggs and still not make an omelet.

Today’s installment?

The Hillbillies Turn to Entrepreneur – Entrepra – Entrepreunuri – Owning Their Own Business!

When last we saw Boris, the Number One Son of a family of square-headed, pop-eyed sons, he was enjoying his role as Neighborhood Vandal from the hood of a neighbor’s car.

Boris, Boris, Boris.  How will I miss you if you won’t go away?

The next time I saw him, a week later, I was approaching the little gas station/purveyors of deep-fried foods and horribly over-priced “convenience” items at the end of our block.  And while it is convenient to be able to buy, say, a burrito, at 11:00 at night within walking distance, I don’t recommend it.  On top of said burrito often being, shall we say, past its prime, the smell is such that it will make its home in your pores and cause passersby to sniff the air nervously when you go by.

So I was about to go into our little store for a burrito – no! wait! Fresca – when who do I come across but Boris.

“Psst.”  Boris appears to be leaking air from the side of his mouth.

“Me?”

“You wanna buy some green?”  Boris’s pop-eyes scan the parking lot, spin clockwise, then counter clockwise, and finally settle on my chest.

I frown.  “Some what?”

He sneers and goes back to scrutinizing the parking lot.  “Yeah.”  He grins, an unpleasant expression, and suddenly I can see what he will look like as a much older man.  “You wouldn’t, would ya?”

It hits me, what he’s selling.  “Green”?  Is that what we’re calling it these days?  I don’t know what bothers me more, the fact that he’s selling pot in front of my little neighborhood store or that he thinks I don’t know what he’s talking about.

Kids.

I push past him.

“What he doing, that boy?”  The clerk is speaking to me, staring out the glass door at Boris.

“He’s selling pot.”

The clerk laughs, a mirthless bark, and says something under his breath in a language for which I have no reference point.  He reaches into his pocket, opens his cell phone.

“I call my cousin.  He is detective.  Police.  I am seek of that boy.”

And me?  I’m getting sick of that boy, too.

24 comments:

Shelly said...

I think I sense a new, hit reality show with these fellows.

Pearl said...

Shelly, I think the faces on the neighbors walking by, stepping around the beer cans, would make for a lovely opening sequence...

Shelly said...

And to add a little dramatic effect, the music from Deliverance as a theme...

Pearl said...

Shelly, LOL. They definitely had a bit of the banjo about them!

Kitty Moore said...

That was hilariously recounted!

Anonymous said...

I wonder how many times a year they have to move.

Vicus Scurra said...

You don't want any? Please return my parcel when it arrives. The customs declaration refers to "legal stuff".

Anonymous said...

The plot thickens...methinks Boris will be in a stew soon.

Lorna said...

You have a way with words and I like the way you transliterate the merchant's speech. Your page is fun, Pearl.

~Lorna
_______________________________________


joeh said...

Like Shelly said!

jenny_o said...

Boris is beginning to give me the heebie-jeebies. Good thing the store owner is calling in the troops!

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari Om
hhmmm let me see. Got no use for greenfly. Greenback's not doing so well on the exchange just now. The lawn is not yet in need of "Green-o". Leprechaun's have had their day so the 40 shades of Green will have to hold for another 364...

Oh please let this have a happy-take-'em-down ending.

Geo. said...

I've been following this story closely, Pearl. I want to understand the Blockhead family. I also want to know how they've lived in every neighborhood --maybe every neighborhood on earth. Are they some sort of franchise?

Notes From ABroad said...

How odd , I would swear I know them, but I haven't been to your area of the world yet .. I wonder if they used to live in NC .. back when I was a wee bit of a girl.

Off we go, Pearl, I will keep track of you while I lose track of me ... somewhere between Argentina and New York.
lotsalove for now- behave. C

Dr. Kathy McCoy said...

Pearl, I think you and Shelly are onto something with your reality show concept. Now there's a reality show I'd actually watch -- with horrid fascination!

The Savage said...

Would it be a bit forward of me to say I love you, Pearl?.. Yeah I think so too... But I will state that I love your stories.

Lin said...

You live in Weirdville too, eh?

Dang. Where do these people come from? And why do they keep multiplying? I'm surrounded by them where I live too and for some reason, they look at me like I'm the weird one.

Maybe I am. Happily.

HermanTurnip said...

Hey...where can I get some of those affable immigrants? My neighborhood could use some character, and your descriptions really make me want to hang in your neck of the woods, throw a nice party, and invite everyone (except for the neckbeards who throw eggs and sell hues).

sage said...

You have brought back bad memories of some neighbors I once had, thanks a lot! But I am enjoying your story.

Rose L said...

Bad boys,bad boys, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you.
I imagine that Boris will try to say you did it!!

Connie said...

Hi Pearl. I'm here catching up on all that I've missed the last few days. Boris and company do not sound like neighbors I'd particularly care to have around. Yikes! My tolerance would definitely be tested with Boris around. I'd probably not want to leave the house for fear of coming across him.

Jo-Anne's Ramblings said...

Thank you for making me laugh

Elephant's Child said...

I assume it was five-fingered discount which made the store owner seek of Boris. Boris's big mistake.

goatman said...



Wow! where do you live?
This is horrible.