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Weekend-Engagement: Knowing it! What I think I know.

In this week's Weekend-Engagement, @galenkp gave us 5 different prompts to choose from.
I could write about my personal life forever, and I do. So maybe not something to write about just now.
Conflict management? Nah, I'd be too conflicted as to what to write about.
A time when I turned out to be a fool? Well, let's just say there are too many times to mention.
Something about what's uniquely me? Do you have a month?
So I choose the subject: Knowing it.
The prompt was this:
What is something you know a lot about? Is it a hobby, history, your work/job, health and fitness, nature? Tell us about something you know a lot about. (Cryptocurrency topics are excluded.)

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What I know.

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This is partly a funny one. I seem to know really well how to dig myself into a big hole. Anyone who knows me personally, will attest to that.
But what they'll also attest to, is that somehow, every single time, I will be able to dig myself out of it, and come out better than before.
So this little post for today will be about just that: my resourcefulness.
It's what I know.

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The Hustler in me

My brother (who's 16 years older than me) and I were once talking about serious things. This was something that never really happened between us as he's never stopped seeing me as the baby of the family. Furthermore he isn't much of a talker, and if we'd see him once a year, maybe twice if you include Christmas when our mother was still alive, it'd be a lot. He wouldn't forget birthdays but he wouldn't always show up either.

This conversation was special to me because it showed me how he truly thought of me, and he gave me the best compliment he could have given me.
I don't think we ever had a talk like it again since, almost 20 years on.

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We talked about my time in St. Martin, and then the US.
How I went from all good and just peachy to sleeping behind the Hilton Hotel.
Yes, you heard that right.
Behind it.
In the time, I'd tell my parents I was sleeping at the Hilton...
Which wasn't a lie...

I was homeless in Las Vegas.
It was only for a few days but still.
I was homeless.
You'd say it wouldn't be the worst place to be homeless in, and you would be right.
With summer night temperatures of still around 27-30 degrees Celsius (80.5 to 86 F), it definitely wouldn't be the worst place.
However, it wasn't summer. It was mid October, and although it hardly ever rains in Vegas, maybe 4 times a year, (and then it RAINS!) of course, being lucky little me, it rained most of the days I spent homeless on the streets of Las Vegas.

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That was just a little backstory of the time spent there.
It wasn't the worst to be honestly, although I felt very sorry for myself back then...
The reason why I was homeless was partly my own fault, and partly someone else's.
It was partly mine because I trusted the wrong people, and partly theirs...well, because they were causing the issue. It happened more often before and after that but this time it was definitely a stupid one.
I wasn't alone in this. I wasn't the only person that had been let down by the same people. In fact, there were about 12 of us.
Some of them were lucky: they had something or someone to back them up, or at least a place to stay.
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A handful weren't that lucky. No savings. At least not any to write home about.
So it was four of us that were in this situation of living behind the Hilton...
During the day, I'd usually go to the local cinema or one of the casinos to freshen myself up, before we'd take off looking for a job.
One of my buddies, Sean, who I will never forget, was a real hustler.
A real one.
Not only could he sell anything to anyone, he also had great charm, and people just instantly liked him.
They liked me because I was Dutch.
Great combo.
Somehow we managed to get enough money to rent ourselves a room for the night but this wasn't going to help us in the long term.
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So one evening, Sean asked me if I'd go with him, to make some money.
I feel eye brows rising...
But no, it wasn't anything like that.
Sean called me his sister and he treated me like one.

Anyway, unsure what we were going to do, I agreed.
We didn't really have a choice.
I was surprised with what Sean pulled out of his sleeve, quite literally.
Not only was he a great seller, and a hustler, he was also a magician!
He'd do card tricks on the street and ask for donations.
His card tricks were amazing and I still don't know, to this day, how he did half of them.
We'd speak to people on the street, and he'd tell them about a bunch of great deals that we had in Vegas, like the two-for-one dinners, shows, drinks, etc.
He told them all about how to save money in Vegas.
It wasn't something people couldn't figure out for themselves but they liked us, and I think they appreciated the time we spent with them to show them the real Vegas, so they happily tipped us for the service.

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Before I knew it, we were out in the evenings like this every night.
Sean would do his card tricks, while I'd tell people about the best ways to save lots of money in the city. The least we'd come home with was 75 USD but that was really the least. Some nights we'd be gone for an hour, and we'd dump 100, 200 or more on the bed and swim in it.
It was always enough to buy us an extra night or more in a reasonable place, and some food.
Whatever we had left, I'd 'save' so we could put some money down for an apartment once we had jobs.
And the best part? I LOVED every single minute of us spending that time together. We weren't scamming anyone.
We were entertaining.
I'm sure some people still mention his card tricks now because they were awesome.

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Slowly but surely, we started saving enough money, and eventually were able to rent an apartment for the 4 of us who were still living day to day.
That turned out to be a big mistake...but that's not the point here. Although there were lots of times when I wished that Sean and I would have kept doing what we were doing, instead of moving into an apartment with the others...
We probably would have ended up in a mansion instead haha.
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My Brother's Compliment

So back to the beginning of my story. The conversation I had with my brother, started because he seemed to think I had been living the life all the time I was gone. I told him all of my stories, to let him know that that wasn't always the case. And that I'd call my parents and told them only good things in order not to worry them...
He listened to it all and then said: "You're a hustler."
When I wanted to say something in disagreement, he interrupted me and said:
"But I mean that in a good way! You get into bad situations, but always make your way out of it again, and you're good at that."

So there. It was the best compliment my brother has ever given me, and I think that's truly the one thing I know best.

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