selling inexpensive items without a license is an old street hustle- especially for the psychically disabled- and for a time in NYC at least you would see folks selling pencils or other such sundries on the street.
The idea of the blind beggar selling pencils on city streets was already a stereotype by the time legendary journalist/reformer Jacob Riis wrote How The Other Half Lives in 1890 in New York: “There is no provision for him anywhere…The annual pittance of 30 or 40 dollars which he receives from the city serves to keep his landlord in good humor; for the rest his misfortune and his thin disguise of selling pencils on the street corners must provide.”
It’s always been so hard for the psychically deaf to get ahead in this world… Getting discriminated against in job interviews, having to hustle pencils on the side of the street. All because we can’t move shit with our minds or speak without our mouths.
My co-workers are always talking to each other telepathically when I’m around, laughing about their psychic in-jokes, knowing I can’t hear them. It’s honestly so rude. They’re probably making fun of me in there, tossing mean comments in the conduit between their attuned minds 😠
Well guess what? The psychically deaf are just as good as the psychics! There’s nothing they can do with their minds that we can’t do with good old fashioned human muscle 😤 we deserve respect!
The joke is that in Larson’s world the people selling pencils on the street aren’t just poor or disabled people trying to make some money, they’re actually hired and employed by the pencil manufacturer.
Yup! I wouldn’t have chosen the word “hustle;” it has connotations of a rip-off. I think most people were aware that there was a mark-up, but it felt more capitalist than simply giving someone a hand-out.
I wonder how much of a real niche this filled, though. Maybe you could buy a box of ten for a nickel, and one from a homeless person for a penny; but you only had to spend a penny, a single pencil would last you a couple of days, and you’d have enough left of your nickel for a cup of coffee. Plus, you were aware of the charitable aspect. Or maybe you really couldn’t afford to spend a whole nickel on a box of pencils. I suspect, though, it was more the charity thing.
selling inexpensive items without a license is an old street hustle- especially for the psychically disabled- and for a time in NYC at least you would see folks selling pencils or other such sundries on the street.
Here’s an example article about the pencil trope specifically during the 30’s: https://www.graphiteconfidential.com/blog/2018/2/25/blind-new-yorkers-selling-pencils-on-the-corner
It’s always been so hard for the psychically deaf to get ahead in this world… Getting discriminated against in job interviews, having to hustle pencils on the side of the street. All because we can’t move shit with our minds or speak without our mouths.
My co-workers are always talking to each other telepathically when I’m around, laughing about their psychic in-jokes, knowing I can’t hear them. It’s honestly so rude. They’re probably making fun of me in there, tossing mean comments in the conduit between their attuned minds 😠
Well guess what? The psychically deaf are just as good as the psychics! There’s nothing they can do with their minds that we can’t do with good old fashioned human muscle 😤 we deserve respect!
Man, did you just create an even worse timeline?
Sounds like something from psychonauts
But what’s the joke?
The joke is that in Larson’s world the people selling pencils on the street aren’t just poor or disabled people trying to make some money, they’re actually hired and employed by the pencil manufacturer.
Yup! I wouldn’t have chosen the word “hustle;” it has connotations of a rip-off. I think most people were aware that there was a mark-up, but it felt more capitalist than simply giving someone a hand-out.
I wonder how much of a real niche this filled, though. Maybe you could buy a box of ten for a nickel, and one from a homeless person for a penny; but you only had to spend a penny, a single pencil would last you a couple of days, and you’d have enough left of your nickel for a cup of coffee. Plus, you were aware of the charitable aspect. Or maybe you really couldn’t afford to spend a whole nickel on a box of pencils. I suspect, though, it was more the charity thing.
I also now wonder what the average mark-up was.