Well, as I mentioned yesterday, my holiday dinner included a close encounter with New York’s “Littlest Hustler.” The kid’s an experience. A unique mix of precocious and childish, playful and mean — In other words, incredibly manipulative. But he is somehow such that it almost feels reasonable that there’s a 3,000-word profile about him in that rag.
(Anybody who knows me well knows that I’ve been engaged in an ill-advised beard-growing foray, and have been left with a mild bout of folliculitis. Alex promptly and gleefully made sure I knew that I had “an ass disease on my face.” Then he made me a sandwich.)
I went to the comments section from the NYMag article for help articulating my ambivalent reaction. I think this one might come closest:
What the fuck is happening to New York? Gettin soft? 15 years ago that kid woulda been popped in the mouth and had his sneakers jacked. Can’t hate on the little bastard though, just taking advantage of the opportunities presented to him….parents who don’t care, a city where individuals get lost in the mayhem, and a look that begs for people to shower him with empathy….SHit, I’m just jealous cuz I gotta wait in line at Supreme and then have to pay stupid amounts for hoodies and t’s…
Just when I thought I had made up my mind about water-boarding… this kid comes along. We’ll be needing a much bigger board of course.
I read that piece when it came out and for the first time in my life I found myself hating a child.