Twista

Twista got his nick name from the way he walks. With each step he bends his knee and twists toward it at a severe angle. He is a mental ward escapee and as well as a cheery crack enthusiast. He is unemployed but maintains his habit through his constant and haphazard hustle. If ever you need a single ladies loafer, a 50 cent "Nutty Professor" VHS or a low dose of Percaset for instance, he's your go-to guy. Despite his predictions of the buyers market for these types of products tends to be unrealistic, he has an uncanny ability to sense individual needs. Recently, I was walking to the corner store at the intersection of Desire and St. Claude, when I spotted him on the Neutral Ground parallel to me. He was twisting this way and that across the strip of grass, spraying each tree with Windex as he went. "What you doin? Twista?" I asked. "Just cleanin' up around here, baby!" he responded with a smile. I smiled back before opening the heavy metal cage door to enter the corner store. I dug a few quarters out of my pocket and inserted them into the Ms.Pacman machine. After about an hour of practice I was totally ready for one final game. I really felt I had a shot at breaking the high score at this point so I dug my hands into my pockets once more. This time, much to my dismay, I couldn't even find a dime. I exited the store with my head down. Twista confronted me immediately, "don't look so blue, Baby" he said, before placing his palms on his ears and tilting his head left then right. A quarter fell from each ear into his palm, he smiled silently and held them out to me. I thanked him before hurrying back inside, and though I didn't get the high score I got pretty damn close. I don't know if he even knew that I'd been playing Ms. Pacman. It seemed more likely that he'd simply read the dissapointment on my face and somehow known that this was one of those problems that 50 cents could remedy.