He wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Most of his ad-libs bordered on indiscriminate garble he intended to be off the cuff, but they knew the difference. Anything true he uttered was based on him staying in the middle, never trying to jiggle a vendors’ opinion. He could read their willingness to cooperate or not and knew how to press them into submission if they objected. No one on the street wanted to perish by not obeying the rules.
His fingertips fondled the apples in one grocer’s sidewalk fare, one by one, picked one up and chomped loudly. This action was a signal to the street vendors he wanted their cash quickly with no trouble. His employer had been fleecing the local vendors for years and DJ wasn’t about to cross him.