Wednesday, August 27

Call Me...The Mojito Man

Developments of Note

You encounter lots of different characters in Central Park on a Sunday afternoon: tourists, families, college students, joggers, rollerbladers, bums, rats, etc. But on a recent outing to throw the Frisbee around, I took note of a separate breed of park dwellers: the alcohol pushers. These peddlers walk around and sell bottles of water, soda, cans of miller light and other quality beers to people like me, who do not plan ahead and supply their own beverage to relinquish their thirst. These field peddlers are a normal component of the park society, as they often supply my company softball team with cans of coors light before the game to help us get pumped up, as well as after the game to help us drown our sorrows.

But I noticed something different on Sunday. A man carrying around a blender (with no cord) offering to make mojitos, daquiris and other tasty blended beverages. A more perfect idea simply does not exist. This man is set out to make millions, as he apparently is the only person in all of Central Park that is equipped to take on such a task. I asked him about his business strategy and he informed me that he’s been written about everywhere, which apparently only consists of Time Out NY and the New Yorker. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. This guy? In the New Yorker? Come on, they don’t profile desolate street bums in the New Yorker, one of the most well-respected literary publications of modern day times.

Well…apparently they do. The Mojito Man’s real name is Junius. He carries a cordless Black & Decker blender with him. And the New Yorker claims “one of the most enterprising men ever to vend without a license in the Park.” And apparently his genius idea is paying off, as Junius cleans up at about nine hundred dollars each week and plans to vacation in Hawaii during the off-season to run the Honolulu Marathon.

My favorite part of the article is when Junius describes how this stroke of genius came to him via divine intervention:

“I walked into an Odd Job store on Fourteenth Street, and there was a shelf full of Black & Decker cordless blenders. I hadn’t even known such a thing existed. I said to myself, ‘That’s divine intervention!’ I bought three. Spent everything I had in my pocket. The next day, I went back, and the blenders were all gone. I haven’t come across one since. Divine intervention!”

I will never judge a man carrying around a cordless blender, and smelling like the East River, ever again.

Developments of Note

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