Hustle Gangster Quotes

Some people go through the heavy stuff. They fight in wars. They're in jail. They start a business and it gets shut down by gangsters. They end up hustling their ass in a foreign country. It's one long list of setbacks and humiliations. But it doesn't touch them, not really. They're having an adventure. It's like: What's next? And then there's other people who are just trying to live quietly, they stay out of trouble, they're maybe ten years old, or fourteen, and one Friday morning at 9:35 something happens to them, something private, something that breaks their heart. Forever.

Some people go through heavy stuff. They fight in wars. They’re in jail. They start a business and it gets shut down by gangsters. They end up hustling their ass in a foreign country. It’s one long list of setbacks and humiliations. But it doesn’t touch them, not really. They’re having an adventure. It’s like: What’s next? An then there’s other people who are just trying to live quietly, they stay out of trouble, they’re maybe ten years old, or fourteen, and one Friday morning at 9:35 something happens to them, something private, something that breaks their heart. Forever.

and Lloyd’s fathers hustled side by side in Jamaica before they were killed in a deal gone wrong. Carrying on with their legacy, Kenyon and Lloyd did things the same way as their fathers, but they grew up more like brothers than cousins, so their bond had been stronger.

When I finally get called, I give my name as Bryan Jackson—Bryan after the Purple People Eater who is married to our old water polo coach, and Jackson after Jackson Hole, Wyoming, where Tamara Dunleavy lives. I’m trying to give my story to a desk sergeant who is about as interested as a hibernating bear. The only time his ears perk up is when I drop the name Gus Alabaster. “You mean the gangster?” “He’s my father,” I resume the telling, “even though we’ve never met. He doesn’t even know I exist. Mom only told me I was his son when she read that he hasn’t got long to live.” The desk sergeant stops making notes and looks up at me. “What exactly is the nature of your complaint?” “I’m not complaining about anything. I just need Gus Alabaster’s address so I can go over there and meet him before he dies.” “So no actual crime has been committed,” he concludes. I shake my head. “No crime. I just need the address.” “We don’t do that here. Sorry, kid. Next!” Diaper Man gets up and heads for the desk. What can I do? I turn to walk away, utterly defeated. But before I can take a step, Laska rushes over and pushes me back into the chair. “Aren’t you going to help him?” she shrills at the desk sergeant, her face flaming bright red. “Don’t you even care?” The cop leans back in his chair. “And you are?” “All he wants to do is have a moment with his dying father!” Tears—real tears—are streaming down her cheeks. “And there’s a time limit for that, you know!” The desk sergeant’s half-closed eyes pop wide open. He’s probably seen it all working this job, but a crying girl turns out to be the one thing he doesn’t know what to do with. And I’ve got to hand it to Laska. As soon as she sees she’s spooking the guy, she switches on the full waterworks. He hustles to his feet. “Uh—follow me.