Whoosh! Another minibus went speeding by. It was the third to do so in about five minutes. I looked at 'Nutsy', the cashew vendor.
"Yeah man, yuh haffi watch fi dem. Dem drive too crucial," he said, his eyes wide.
Nutsy and I were standing near a railway crossing in Clarendon Park, Clarendon. That's where he spends most of his days, peddling small bags of roasted cashews. He's a friendly fellow with droopy eyes. Nutsy lives in Porus, not too far away.
"About five year now mi selling out here yuh know," he said.
"Di runnings [COLOR=blue !important][COLOR=blue !important]nuh[/COLOR][/COLOR] too bad still, yuh can eat a food if you have yuh regular customer dem."
Whoosh! Another vehicle, this one a small car sped by. A woman with curlers in her hair stuck her head out the window of the passenger side.
"Nutsy, wah deh gwaan?" she yelled. Nutsy gave a yelp and waved. By then the car had disappeared around a bushy corner.
"Ah who dat?" he asked me. I had no idea and was surprised by the question. I had after all, just met the man.
"She fava Lorine, but Lorine deh ah town," he said, mostly to himself. He shrugged.
I asked Nutsy how he managed to stay so calm even as vehicles sped by so close to him.
"Mi nah lie, one time mi never did like it. But as time pass yuh get used to it," he said.
Looking down the road I spotted a white Coaster bus heading our way. I took two steps back. Beep! Beep! The bus got closer then came to a stop in front of us. A woman wearing large, gold earrings, and rings on most of her fingers poked her head through one of the back windows.
"Nuts man!" she shouted.
Nutsy's eyes widened and he dashed over to her. As this happened, about five other men selling phone cards, juices and bottled water suddenly appeared and made an equally quick run to the window of the bus. I hadn't seen them before and was surprised by their sudden arrival.
"Nuts man mi call, mi nuh want no juice!" the woman shouted.
"Den baby, yuh ah go choke pon di so-so dry nuts," said a short, balding man holding a bucket full of box and bag juices.
The woman hissed and went on to examine Nutsy's inventory.
"How much fi dis one?" she asked, pointing to one of the smaller bags.
"Cho man baby, mi nah kill yuh. Just gimme two bills and gwaan," was Nutsy's reply.
The woman handed him the bills and the bus sputtered off. The other vendors disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.
Nutsy walked back over to where I was standing. "Well, at least mi hold a one sale," he said.
I told him I was going to take a walk down the road. I had spotted a man selling bags and sandals not far away. They seemed to have been made from crochet and I wanted to see more. "Alright, walk good," said Nutsy.
A five minute stroll got me to a tiny stall run by a dreadlocked man named Steve.
Steve and his wife make crochet bags, dresses and slippers. Well, his wife does most of the actual creating. Steve takes on the selling part of things.
"Yeah man. This is what we do, yuh know?" he said, as I looked over his [COLOR=blue !important][COLOR=blue !important]stock[/COLOR][/COLOR].
"People love it, man. Dem tek on to it wicked."
No bad vibes
I asked Steve why he chose what seemed like an awkward roadside spot to sell the items.
"It nuh bad, yuh know. Whole heap ah people pass here ah day time. Dem go over di patty place down the road and when dem ready dem come look pon di bag dem," he said, grinning.
I asked Steve if he lived in Clarendon Park.
"No, yuh know. Mi rightfully live ah Portland but when mi selling mi stay over by Porus," he said.
I asked him how he found [COLOR=blue !important][COLOR=blue !important]working[/COLOR][/COLOR] in Clarendon Park.
"It good man, well good. Clarendon Park have a more relaxing vibe," he said. "Is a place yuh stop fi cool out when yuh ah go far. No bad vibes. Just cool runnings."
Where should Robert go next? Let him know at robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com.
__________________________________________________
Feedback
The following are feedback to last week's Roving with Lalah.
Dear Robert,
Any day now they are going to call the police to come with the straight jacket and take me away from my [COLOR=blue !important][COLOR=blue !important]workplace[/COLOR][/COLOR]. I have become a total idiot laughing on Tuesdays but this one was out of this world.
- LT
Dear Robert,
This takes the cake. [COLOR=blue !important][COLOR=blue !important]Jamaicans[/COLOR][/COLOR] are the only ones who know how to put words together which make you laugh till you cry. Love it, keep it up.
- Marwil4
Dear Robert,
This is hilarious! Thanks!
- Ceo
Dear Robert,
I actually prefer to read these articles in stages, just to keep the smile and ultimate laughter lasting as long as possible. In my cubicle 'a farin', I get a great laugh/cry each Tuesday. Keep them coming Lalah!
- Deerick
Dear Robert,
What a pleasure. I look forward to Tuesdays so I can read the latest adventure. Keep them coming!
- Queenie
"Yeah man, yuh haffi watch fi dem. Dem drive too crucial," he said, his eyes wide.
Nutsy and I were standing near a railway crossing in Clarendon Park, Clarendon. That's where he spends most of his days, peddling small bags of roasted cashews. He's a friendly fellow with droopy eyes. Nutsy lives in Porus, not too far away.
"About five year now mi selling out here yuh know," he said.
"Di runnings [COLOR=blue !important][COLOR=blue !important]nuh[/COLOR][/COLOR] too bad still, yuh can eat a food if you have yuh regular customer dem."
Whoosh! Another vehicle, this one a small car sped by. A woman with curlers in her hair stuck her head out the window of the passenger side.
"Nutsy, wah deh gwaan?" she yelled. Nutsy gave a yelp and waved. By then the car had disappeared around a bushy corner.
"Ah who dat?" he asked me. I had no idea and was surprised by the question. I had after all, just met the man.
"She fava Lorine, but Lorine deh ah town," he said, mostly to himself. He shrugged.
I asked Nutsy how he managed to stay so calm even as vehicles sped by so close to him.
"Mi nah lie, one time mi never did like it. But as time pass yuh get used to it," he said.
Looking down the road I spotted a white Coaster bus heading our way. I took two steps back. Beep! Beep! The bus got closer then came to a stop in front of us. A woman wearing large, gold earrings, and rings on most of her fingers poked her head through one of the back windows.
"Nuts man!" she shouted.
Nutsy's eyes widened and he dashed over to her. As this happened, about five other men selling phone cards, juices and bottled water suddenly appeared and made an equally quick run to the window of the bus. I hadn't seen them before and was surprised by their sudden arrival.
"Nuts man mi call, mi nuh want no juice!" the woman shouted.
"Den baby, yuh ah go choke pon di so-so dry nuts," said a short, balding man holding a bucket full of box and bag juices.
The woman hissed and went on to examine Nutsy's inventory.
"How much fi dis one?" she asked, pointing to one of the smaller bags.
"Cho man baby, mi nah kill yuh. Just gimme two bills and gwaan," was Nutsy's reply.
The woman handed him the bills and the bus sputtered off. The other vendors disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.
Nutsy walked back over to where I was standing. "Well, at least mi hold a one sale," he said.
I told him I was going to take a walk down the road. I had spotted a man selling bags and sandals not far away. They seemed to have been made from crochet and I wanted to see more. "Alright, walk good," said Nutsy.
A five minute stroll got me to a tiny stall run by a dreadlocked man named Steve.
Steve and his wife make crochet bags, dresses and slippers. Well, his wife does most of the actual creating. Steve takes on the selling part of things.
"Yeah man. This is what we do, yuh know?" he said, as I looked over his [COLOR=blue !important][COLOR=blue !important]stock[/COLOR][/COLOR].
"People love it, man. Dem tek on to it wicked."
No bad vibes
I asked Steve why he chose what seemed like an awkward roadside spot to sell the items.
"It nuh bad, yuh know. Whole heap ah people pass here ah day time. Dem go over di patty place down the road and when dem ready dem come look pon di bag dem," he said, grinning.
I asked Steve if he lived in Clarendon Park.
"No, yuh know. Mi rightfully live ah Portland but when mi selling mi stay over by Porus," he said.
I asked him how he found [COLOR=blue !important][COLOR=blue !important]working[/COLOR][/COLOR] in Clarendon Park.
"It good man, well good. Clarendon Park have a more relaxing vibe," he said. "Is a place yuh stop fi cool out when yuh ah go far. No bad vibes. Just cool runnings."
Where should Robert go next? Let him know at robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com.
__________________________________________________
Feedback
The following are feedback to last week's Roving with Lalah.
Dear Robert,
Any day now they are going to call the police to come with the straight jacket and take me away from my [COLOR=blue !important][COLOR=blue !important]workplace[/COLOR][/COLOR]. I have become a total idiot laughing on Tuesdays but this one was out of this world.
- LT
Dear Robert,
This takes the cake. [COLOR=blue !important][COLOR=blue !important]Jamaicans[/COLOR][/COLOR] are the only ones who know how to put words together which make you laugh till you cry. Love it, keep it up.
- Marwil4
Dear Robert,
This is hilarious! Thanks!
- Ceo
Dear Robert,
I actually prefer to read these articles in stages, just to keep the smile and ultimate laughter lasting as long as possible. In my cubicle 'a farin', I get a great laugh/cry each Tuesday. Keep them coming Lalah!
- Deerick
Dear Robert,
What a pleasure. I look forward to Tuesdays so I can read the latest adventure. Keep them coming!
- Queenie
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