2 This is My Corner

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

The boy turned sharply to look at Lando, his eyes wide. “Oh. You. What does it fucking look like.” The boy turned away. “Get your hot dogs here,” he yelled, “red hot, hot dogs, fresh red hots, all the fixings, none of the tricksings!” He shot a sly glance at Lando.

“Nobody wants hot dogs for breakfast, kid. Now get off of my corner,” Lando said.

The kid ignored him. “Hot dogs, delicious hot dogs! Get your—”

Fuck this. Lando punched him in the side of the head. The kid hit the pavement. His arm cushioned the fall. Lando took a step towards him.

“You motherfucker.” The kid scooted backwards before scampering to his feet. He touched his eye and screamed, looking at the blood on his hand. “You made my eye bleed!”

“I thought I was clear with you yesterday, kid. This is my corner. I’ve been working it day and night for three years.”

“I am gonna—” the kid started.

“I bought it fair and square from the previous owner, Mr. Antonas—”

The kid spit blood. Lando jumped back. “The sidewalk is fucking public property! You can’t buy fucking public property!”

“Mr. Gianakos homesteaded it more than 60 years ago now.” Lando pushed the hot dog cart around the corner and left it next to the tarnished metal plaque that read “Federal Reserve Bank of Philadelphia.” He moved his own into its normal spot on the corner.

“Breakfast burritos here, delicious low-carb breaktfast burritos!” Lando yelled. “They’ll fill you up, or you get a second one on the house! Made with authentic refried beans—”

“Beans are not low-carb, young man,” said a man in a business suit.

“16.4 net carbs per cup, sir!” Lando threw down a tortilla and opened the still-bubbling pot of refried beans.

The man turned and walked back to Lando’s cart. “Now, wait, what about the wrap? That can’t be low carb. And I don’t eat gluten.” The man frowned. He twitched his mustache.

“Not a problem, sir!” Lando smiled. “It’s an almond flour wrap.” Lando dished the pork strips, vegetables and avocado onto the beans. He folded the wrap around the fillings and rapidly encased it in wax paper and plastic-backed aluminum foil. “Enjoy your breakfast, sir. That’s $50 and if it doesn’t fill you up, just come on out for another one. I’m here all day.”

The man stared at him. “It used to be $50 bought you a steak dinner for a family of four.” He pulled out a $50 bill, handed it to Lando and received his food. “What the hell happened?” He took a bite.

Lando jerked his thumb behind him and cocked an eyebrow.

The man swallowed and straightened his neck. “Oh! You’re one of those types that blames the Fed for the economy … or lack thereof.”

“Among other things.” Lando kept his head down and prepared another burrito. Lando dispensed coffee into a small plastic cup and placed a lid on it. He passed it to the man and gestured towards the cream and sugar.

The man took a step forward and spoke in a hushed tone. “You’re not licensed, are you?” The corners of his mouth crept upwards.

“Mouth-watering breakfast burritos with all-natural ingredients!” he yelled. “Don’t just gawk! Survive the corporate chopping block, with all-natural energy, around the clock!” Lando winked at the man. “Thanks again.”

A line formed in front of Lando’s cart. He wrapped up the burrito, then another. The money came in from all sides, faster than he could process it, or the food.

Lando felt a tap on his shoulder. He held up a finger. The tap came again, harder. “Sir, please get in line like everyone else. Thank you,” Lando said. But the tap came harder again, this time on his skull. Lando ripped around. “I told —” Lando jerked his head back.

“You’re making a scene, Mr. Cruz.” A black-shirted police officer stood nose-to-nose with Lando. He took off his hat and scratched his greying hair. “You don’t pay me enough for this kind of scene, young man.”

“I’m trying to make rent here, Manny.” Lando shrugged.

Manny put his hands on his hips. “Manny pays rent, too, you know.”

“Does Manny eat breakfast?” Lando reached around for two burritos. “How about these for a down payment?” Lando held them out in front of him and smiled, showing his teeth.

Manny snatched the burritos with a look of irritation on his face. He held them up to his nose and sniffed. He grunted. “They’re changing the assignments again. My replacement is going to want more.”

Lando turned and got back to the breakfast rush. “I’ll worry about it when I worry about it!”

“Give me all your bitcoins.”

Lando looked up from his tablet, startled. “Hey there … sorry, what’s your name again?”

“Better I stay anonymous, bro.” His face was hidden behind dreadlocks and a bedraggled grey hoodie. “Make it two.”

“Of course.” Lando shook his head. “Sorry, man. Two bitcoins. Coming right up.” Lando switched apps on his tablet to his bitcoin wallet. “Code.”

“Tell you what, call me Henry.” Henry passed him a plastic card.

Lando scanned the card and handed it back to him. “$20,800,” he whispered. “Two lunch burritos with everything then, sir? Coming right up.” Lando took two burritos out and handed them to Henry. Henry passed him a heavy envelope of cash under the burritos. Lando quickly stored it in his pants and hit return on his tablet.

“Something rattling around in there,” Lando said.

Henry took a bite of burrito and passed it from cheek to cheek. “Hmm. Don’t quit your day job.” He grinned and took another bite. “Yeah, a customer paid me some silver this week. You don’t mind, right? Hey, I almost forgot. You need some product?”

Lando grunted. He made himself busy cleaning his cart’s counter. “An ounce will —”

“Hey Lando! Can I get two large burritos and I want to pay in bitcoin.” A chubby young man came bounding up to Lando’s cart.

Lando jumped. “Jesus, David. Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Lando took a deep breath and looked at Henry. He had the package of marijuana in his outstetched hand. Lando could see the buds. He took it quickly - and dropped it.

“Is this gonna take awhile, Lando? Cause I’ve got to run some errands for my mom,” yelled David.

Shut the fuck up, kid. Lando dropped a dish towel on the package and swiped then both up.

Two shiny black shoes appeared where the package had been.

Lando stood up. “Hello, officer. We’re running a two-for-none special today on my famous burritos. Free drink, too. How —”

The police officer studied him through narrowed eyes. “It’s Sargent. Now move along! This is a public walkway. I don’t give second warnings!”

“Not hungry? OK. I also have cash …”

The police officer showed no expression.

Henry turned to go. “Thanks for the food, buddy,” he said to Lando.

“Hold it right there a second. I have some questions for you.”

Henry stayed absolutely still. “Uh, can I get that free drink while I’m waiting?”

The police officer did not move. He motioned to the dish rag covering the marijuana. “What you got under there?”

“Under here?” repeated Lando. “Well, it’s a solar system, actually, no propane or anything. I cook everything at home. No cooking here. I just keep it warm with the solar panels. Lots of insulation, too.” He smiled.

“Propane?” the cop asked.

“No! No way, no sir. Nope. That would be too dangerous for a crowded urban area.” Lando gave a toothy grin.

“How much does old Manny charge you?” the cop asked.

“Around — I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, off—, uh, Sargent. Manny …?” Lando shrugged with an exaggerated frown.

“Good man. One large per day, in bitcoin.” The cop passed him a small piece of plastic.

Lando looked at the plastic.

“Stop gawking, kid and pay up. And I don’t want any funny business here. This …” the cop squinted in the hard afternoon sun at the the front of Lando’s cart. “Agorist Business Alliance sticker comes off. I don’t tolerate this agorism crap on my beat. Everybody pays.”

Lando cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, sir.” Lando rapidly executed the payment on his tablet.

The cop ripped the card from Lando’s hand and grabbed him behind the head. “The money better be there. No tricks. I don’t fuck around with my money.” The cop turned to Henry. “As for you, this one is a freebie but I expect a cut of your profits, too, champ.”

Henry’s dreadlocks rose and fell. He waved a hand to Lando and took off at a brisk pace.

Lando watched the cop walk away. Reminder: bring laxative tomorrow. Lando covered his wry grin with his hand and coughed.

“Wow, what a pig. Hey, Lando, I’m still waiting on my burritos.” David scanned Lando’s bitcoin address from the front of his cart. “I’m sending you a little extra to cover your ‘cost of doing business.’” David rolled his eyes. “Hey, don’t forget extra jalape単os on mine.”

Lando handed him his burritos and a cold, red can. Fucking cops. “If they could just do business like regular people, without all the threats and violence, I could almost tolerate them.”

David dug into the burritos and laughed with his mouth open. “It’s no wonder people can’t get ahead anymore. Sixty percent unofficial unemployment and these pigs are shaking down an honest businessperson like you.”

“You found a job, yet?” Lando asked.

“No,” David said with his mouth full. “There’s nothing out there that’s right for me right now.”

“Maybe you should leave the US,” Lando said.

“Leave the US? What about the rebellion? I’m needed here.”

“What rebellion? We’re all just treading water.” And the sharks are circling.

David looked at him, surprised.

“Your parents have money, David. You’re under-age. You don’t know what it’s like to be out here on the street all day, hustling to pay the bills.” Lando slammed his hand down on the cart.

“Hey, my dad has got four years left in the camps, ok, Lando? Jesus, just because you’re Hispanic and I’m white doesn’t mean I’ve got a silver spoon in my mouth and you’re fucking Cesar Chavez.” David turned to go. Then he turned around again. “Hey, you ok, Lando?”

Lando breathed out though his mouth. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just a long-ass day. I’ve been on my feet for 11 hours now.” He looked up. “Sorry, David.”

“Hey, before I forget, I want to buy a round from you.” David dug in his pocket. “I’ll pay cash for it.”

“Just keep in mind, I don’t usually handle silver. Too heavy to cart around all day.” Lando dug out one of the silver rounds Henry gave him earlier. “Liberty Dollar” and “2005” were written on the back of the coin next to a worn-down torch. This one has changed a lot of hands. Lando palmed it and shook David’s hand. He grasped for the obligatory $500 bill but didn’t find it.

“Um, sorry, Lando. I didn’t have the cash ready yet.” David’s face went red. He extended his hand once more.

Lando groaned and shook David’s hand again. He slipped the note into his front pocket.

“Do you make anything on silver?” David asked.

Lando studied him for a second. “Not much. I need to be a better agorist.” Lando grinned.

David laughed.” It’s one hell of a rebellion where the more profit you make the better rebel soldier you are. Am I right or what?” He took a slug of soda.

“Soldier? We’re not soldiers,” Lando frowned.

David hung his hands out at his sides, palms up. “Come on, you know what I mean.”

A man in a long, black leather trenchcoat and a black fedora appeared in Lando’s field of vision. Lando kept his head low but watched him out of the corner of his eye. The man studied him.

“What is it?” David asked, turning around.

“Don’t turn around!” Lando hissed.

Too late. The man was making a beeline for Lando and David. “Fuck!” Lando whispered.