Long island is the place in New York that everyone aspires to live once they earn a few shillings to make them contenders. It is the residential mecca of financial moguls, lawyers, doctors and the scientific elite. When I first moved to Long Island, I thought it a very morbid place.
First of all, there were no shops in sight and all around seemed eerily quiet and dismal. Although I was raised a city girl, I spent a lot of holidays in the country parts of Jamaica. So serenity was not a problem for me. It was the strange stillness of this sleepy town that bothered me.
As I grew older, I would eventually decipher the facade beneath the Long Island lifestyle. Back in the old days, the Northshore was the place to live. It was the epitome of affluence. Great Neck in particular was saturated with minted Jews, Persians and Syrians.
As I traveled about town, I often liked to view the quaint mansions nicely decorated in the wintertime. Fast forward many years later, as I relocated from Florida, I realized that Long Island had changed a lot.
Most of the Jews had left and moved to Westchester, leaving behind a hodge podge of different ethnicities. There were now nouveau riche Russians who wanted to rule, conquer and divide. After settling in, and I had to go on doctor’s appointments in the Great Neck area, I was stunned to find out the town had been taken over by hoodlums.
I previously wrote in my blog about the time I had a late-night doctor’s visit and when I arrived, I was absolutely mortified. Usually, I prefer my doctor’s visit to be early morning or mid-day. For some reason, the office staff was unable to accommodate me.
Despite my better judgement, I acquiesced and accepted an appointment that was around 5:30 p.m. In the summer, it is an inconvenience but at least it is still light outside. In the winter though, it is as dark as the abyss, and everything looks different.
Nonetheless I showed up on time for my appointment and at first, I felt as if I had walked into a nightclub in Cali. There were white teenagers running around in fur coats, with blinged out name plates and heavy gold chains. If I did not know better, I would have thought there was a rap concert going on.
The girls had dresses on that barely covered their crotches. Most looked like they were ads for cosmetic enhancements. Upon entering the offices, I had to do a double take to make sure there were medical staff sitting at the front desk.
What I was viewing made it obvious that drugs and pimping had clearly taken a hold on the privileged areas of the Northshore. I was very uncomfortable, so when the doctor took his sweet time getting to me, I ended up saying adieu traveling back home as fast as I could.
The vibe was troublesome to say the least. In my heart, I felt this was the prelude to shenanigans in the making. The reason why I am re-hashing this particular experience is because my friend Lurline who lives and works in Great Neck just found out that her boss is being harassed to sell her business to Russian drug dealers.
These individuals are not even the nice, dignified Russians who are trying to take over the company. No. They are bold, brazen and thug-like. They are young wannabes who have no idea about business acumen but have enough money to throw around and make people’s lives’ miserable.
The company is a robe company so one wonders what the heck do they want with a robe company? They have no experience in the garment industry whatsoever. It all boils down to import and export “opportunities”.
In other words, they want to use the company as a front for drug running. Normally Lurline would not care about the mini thugs. However, they have been participating in unprofessional actions such as sexually harassing the female workers and bullying them with weapons in tow.
Here is what they want the boss lady to do. They want her to give up her business for little and nothing. They also are demanding for her to fire her staff without severance packages. These thugs have pretty much suggested that if she refuses to go along with their caper there will be dire consequences in the form of violence.
I believe they want the owner to run away from her company without them paying one dime. Their recent behavior is confirming my hunch. The other day, the two youngest Russian thugs walked into the offices with a Glock firearm demanding they give them money from the safe.
Mind you they did not earn one red cent. It is just the sign of the times we are living in. Generation Zers have a sense of entitlement without putting in an ounce of work. This lawless society is allowing them to be outlaws since many of the leaders and law enforcement are on the take.
In this new world that is forming it is all about the money and greed. These newbies who are engaging in “business” do not care about the casualties they leave behind when they dismantle companies.
They just want to make a quick buck or to use well established entities as dummy corporations to launder money or to import and export drugs all day every day. As a woman in business, you have to become a terror so that nefarious people back off and leave your company alone.
Currently, Lurline is quite skittish about going to work. She does not know what other antics these vagabonds will try to pull. After all, she is second in command. If the crofts come again, they have gotta have a plan.
I have discovered that in business nowadays you cannot even smile or have a sense of humor. The first time BS presents itself you have to put people on notice and let them be aware that at any moment you could warp into King Kong.
I asked Lurline two questions…”You come from Jamaica, right?” “You know about bamboo stick and stalk?” The next time dem two thugs decide to pop in and out just turn into the dean of discipline and trash their arses with a long piece of bamboo stick. I bet you dem never dark pass uno business door again.”
Sometimes we get caught up in the hype of glamorous pictures and living that we forget that our ancestry and origin were gifted to us for very specific reasons. No matter where we roam, we have to take some of the craziness of the elders with us if only to keep people in check.
Long Island has always been one of those places that are phonier than Hollywood. The pressure to keep up with the Joneses is ridiculous. The soccer moms club are at times responsible for label shaming and income shaming other residents who are trying their darndest to toe the line.
A small percentage of Long Islanders actually come from money, especially old money. The rest are working families and working stiffs who made sacrifices so their children could have better lives. Those children grew up and married well, forgetting from whence they came and then attempted to Lord it over others on a regular basis.
Listen me nuh, in plain Jamaican language, I am just going to say, “Stop pop style!” At any moment the cushy world you all are using to cause other’s discomfort could fizzle away and then what? You are in the same boat as the masses that you defame every chance you get.”
I know quite well about Long Island snobbery because they crucified me. I kept my lineage, and financial ancestry hush-hush. When I showed up being me in all my weird glory, it did not go over well and that is when my melodrama began. They need to know; I was never trying to fit in or belong. Truthfully, it is they who should have been clamoring to know me not the other way around.
It is kind of ironic that the snobbery they have purveyed over the years is becoming an albatross. Long Islanders have magically magnetized thugs to take up residence in their midst and now they have to deal with it. First it was MS-13 and now the Russians, I wonder how it will all play out?
Fighting For My Life Memoir 