Dodging the Polish Mafia
My week thus far has been consumed by encounters with the Polish Mafia. Is Monef okay? Is there is hit out on her? Is someone waiting to whack her with a kielbasa, I hear you ask? Not to fear, my Naija vexing is stronger than their Polish posturing. This all came about because I attempted to do that most straightforward of things, purchase a service.
My closest friend in NYC is moving apartments, and as that is always a tragic experience that should never be endured solo, I pitched in to help her out. The movers that I generally use were unavailable, so I took a dive into craigslist and hired the first available lot that looked like a regular price. Not an amazing bargain, but not overtly extortionate. That nice middle of the road territory that usually guarantees you safety, $60 per hour for two men with a van. We didn’t have much to move; a bed, a couch, a chest of drawers, a TV with stand and a bunch a miscellaneous boxes and bags. Two stops were scheduled, one in downtown Manhattan and one in Green point, Brooklyn. The whole exercise should have taken 1.5 to 2 hours at the most which is why I was fuming when 2 hours into the proceedings the half-wits were still loading the van and we hadn’t even made it to the first stop yet.
I decided to make it very clear to mover number 1 that he wasn’t dealing with a mugu:
Monef: Why on earth is it taking you guys so long to load this van?
Mover 2: Don’t talk to me, I am only here to help my friend out, it is his job.
Monef: Mover 1, why on earth is it taking you guys so long to load this van?
Mover 1: We are going to get it done. What is your problem?
Monef: Don’t even dream of copping an attitude with me mate, I am paying you for a service and out agreement does not include you mouthing off or taking the piss.
Mover 1: What does ‘taking the piss mean’?
Monef: All you have to do is observe yourself to get the gist of the matter. Anyway, I am not prepared to pay you to dilly-dally all day. It has taken you two hours to do 30 mins of work. This is unacceptable.
Mover 1: Okay fine, I will do better but I cannot get all this stuff into my van. Can you call a cab to carry the rest to Manhattan?
At this point rather than get huffy I figured I would just call the cab. And so we set out, in a mini convoy off to the storage facility. This was the least stressful part of the whole experience, and I should have known that it was not too last. At the facility whilst filling out the paperwork, Mover 1 decides to engage me in conversation yet again, and it went a little something like this:
Mover 1: So do you like Polish guys?
Monef: I like everybody, I am quite the open-minded chick.
Mover 1:But do you date Polish guys?
Monef: I haven’t dated any Polish guys so far, and trust me that is not about to change today.
Mover 1: But why? I am a nice guy.
Monef: You have got to be bloody kidding me. Can you get on with what you are here to do?
Mover 1 then makes some pretence at actually doing some work but within 10 minutes he is back again chatting away. He tells me all about how he was in Atlantic City gambling his life away when I called him and how he had to spend $50 on gas just to get back into town. My immediate thought is that this guy is having a laugh if he thinks that I am going to offset the costs of his debauchery. He then pays scrupulous attention to the cost of the storage facility and takes note of the neighbourhood that we are headed to afterwards:
Mover 1: So you live in Greenpoint?
Monef: Yes.
Mover 1: That is a really expensive place to live. I guess you are a high maintenance kind of girl.
Monef: I’m not quite sure what you are getting at, but if I have to tell you to keep it moving one more time it might get a bit Ajegunle up in this place.
Mover 1: What is Ajegunle?
Monef: Hiiiiiissssssssss.
By the time this whole shebang is over and done with and we are ready to move on to the next stop, Mover 1 comes up to me and tells me that everything so far has taken 3.5 hours and he wants $210 now before heading to the final stop. At this point I lose my rag. This mofo has done less than 2 hours work and wants me to pay him for 3.5 because he thinks that I am made of Benjamins? He is messing with the wrong girls. My friend and I tell him this and make it clear to him that we are not about to let him cheat us, at which point he decides that he is not releasing the rest of our stuff and he is not finishing the job. This of course leads to a Mexican standoff without the guns. Movers 1 & 2 set up shop in their van and my friend and I perch on a stoop while we proceed to see who blinks first for the next two hours. Yes, you read right…2 hours.
Eventually the NYPD swing by and attempt to negotiate, but the movers are having none of it. They insist on unloading the rest of the stuff there on the street and driving off. This seems like a bizarre choice to make, seeing as non-completion of the job will not elicit payment, but apparently that was what worked for them. And so my friend and I flag down a cab, get as much of the stuff as we can in and head home. Upon arriving at my place, whilst unloading this cab, who should happen to drive by but the movers? THE BASTARDS FOLLOWED ME HOME!!!! Heeeeeelllll no!
Fortunately, I have a picture of their license plate number and the NYPD came round again to check things out and make sure that they didn’t hang around. That said, Greenpoint is an extremely Polish neighbourhood, so for the time being I am spending my days (and nights) looking out for the Polish Mafia. I have of course warned them that they don’t want to see my Naija madness. I wasn’t kidding when I said things would get Ajegunle. If I have to, I will head out to Utica and grab some Oshodi boys to throw into the mix. They must be missing the area boy activity they engaged in back home, so I’m sure a good tussle would be welcome.
Moral of the story: All you sheisty craigslist movers out there, who are looking to cheat people, don’t mess with a Naija babe. I can smell your dodginess from a mile away and I refuse to be conned by the likes of you.
My closest friend in NYC is moving apartments, and as that is always a tragic experience that should never be endured solo, I pitched in to help her out. The movers that I generally use were unavailable, so I took a dive into craigslist and hired the first available lot that looked like a regular price. Not an amazing bargain, but not overtly extortionate. That nice middle of the road territory that usually guarantees you safety, $60 per hour for two men with a van. We didn’t have much to move; a bed, a couch, a chest of drawers, a TV with stand and a bunch a miscellaneous boxes and bags. Two stops were scheduled, one in downtown Manhattan and one in Green point, Brooklyn. The whole exercise should have taken 1.5 to 2 hours at the most which is why I was fuming when 2 hours into the proceedings the half-wits were still loading the van and we hadn’t even made it to the first stop yet.
I decided to make it very clear to mover number 1 that he wasn’t dealing with a mugu:
Monef: Why on earth is it taking you guys so long to load this van?
Mover 2: Don’t talk to me, I am only here to help my friend out, it is his job.
Monef: Mover 1, why on earth is it taking you guys so long to load this van?
Mover 1: We are going to get it done. What is your problem?
Monef: Don’t even dream of copping an attitude with me mate, I am paying you for a service and out agreement does not include you mouthing off or taking the piss.
Mover 1: What does ‘taking the piss mean’?
Monef: All you have to do is observe yourself to get the gist of the matter. Anyway, I am not prepared to pay you to dilly-dally all day. It has taken you two hours to do 30 mins of work. This is unacceptable.
Mover 1: Okay fine, I will do better but I cannot get all this stuff into my van. Can you call a cab to carry the rest to Manhattan?
At this point rather than get huffy I figured I would just call the cab. And so we set out, in a mini convoy off to the storage facility. This was the least stressful part of the whole experience, and I should have known that it was not too last. At the facility whilst filling out the paperwork, Mover 1 decides to engage me in conversation yet again, and it went a little something like this:
Mover 1: So do you like Polish guys?
Monef: I like everybody, I am quite the open-minded chick.
Mover 1:But do you date Polish guys?
Monef: I haven’t dated any Polish guys so far, and trust me that is not about to change today.
Mover 1: But why? I am a nice guy.
Monef: You have got to be bloody kidding me. Can you get on with what you are here to do?
Mover 1 then makes some pretence at actually doing some work but within 10 minutes he is back again chatting away. He tells me all about how he was in Atlantic City gambling his life away when I called him and how he had to spend $50 on gas just to get back into town. My immediate thought is that this guy is having a laugh if he thinks that I am going to offset the costs of his debauchery. He then pays scrupulous attention to the cost of the storage facility and takes note of the neighbourhood that we are headed to afterwards:
Mover 1: So you live in Greenpoint?
Monef: Yes.
Mover 1: That is a really expensive place to live. I guess you are a high maintenance kind of girl.
Monef: I’m not quite sure what you are getting at, but if I have to tell you to keep it moving one more time it might get a bit Ajegunle up in this place.
Mover 1: What is Ajegunle?
Monef: Hiiiiiissssssssss.
By the time this whole shebang is over and done with and we are ready to move on to the next stop, Mover 1 comes up to me and tells me that everything so far has taken 3.5 hours and he wants $210 now before heading to the final stop. At this point I lose my rag. This mofo has done less than 2 hours work and wants me to pay him for 3.5 because he thinks that I am made of Benjamins? He is messing with the wrong girls. My friend and I tell him this and make it clear to him that we are not about to let him cheat us, at which point he decides that he is not releasing the rest of our stuff and he is not finishing the job. This of course leads to a Mexican standoff without the guns. Movers 1 & 2 set up shop in their van and my friend and I perch on a stoop while we proceed to see who blinks first for the next two hours. Yes, you read right…2 hours.
Eventually the NYPD swing by and attempt to negotiate, but the movers are having none of it. They insist on unloading the rest of the stuff there on the street and driving off. This seems like a bizarre choice to make, seeing as non-completion of the job will not elicit payment, but apparently that was what worked for them. And so my friend and I flag down a cab, get as much of the stuff as we can in and head home. Upon arriving at my place, whilst unloading this cab, who should happen to drive by but the movers? THE BASTARDS FOLLOWED ME HOME!!!! Heeeeeelllll no!
Fortunately, I have a picture of their license plate number and the NYPD came round again to check things out and make sure that they didn’t hang around. That said, Greenpoint is an extremely Polish neighbourhood, so for the time being I am spending my days (and nights) looking out for the Polish Mafia. I have of course warned them that they don’t want to see my Naija madness. I wasn’t kidding when I said things would get Ajegunle. If I have to, I will head out to Utica and grab some Oshodi boys to throw into the mix. They must be missing the area boy activity they engaged in back home, so I’m sure a good tussle would be welcome.
Moral of the story: All you sheisty craigslist movers out there, who are looking to cheat people, don’t mess with a Naija babe. I can smell your dodginess from a mile away and I refuse to be conned by the likes of you.
posted by Monef at 5:49 PM
14 Comments:
that was freaking hilarious!
Well said!
Easy o!
You better be careful. sure there are others that dont want you in the area. Be very very mindful
Gosh, we learn everyday. They'd figured you were a lady they could play around with.
lol. Very nice... I too utilized the services of a mover found on craigslist... I'd like to reel off my own tale of woe, but I unfortunately don't have one...
Dude was on point. Did what he had to do in the time he said he'd do it, and even charged me less than he'd originally agreed to...
Still though, it was awesome to read your post... lol.
Hey, where are you?
that was too funny..."what is ajegunle?" i just moved to hoboken myself and had quite an experience with the movers i got from craigslist. there shld be a sort of blacklist with names of those not suitable for conducting business with. lol!
Uh you might not want to talk so tough about the Polish Mafia. They are the kind of people that put you through meat grinders in Chicago and pretty much ran the Russians outta town, although I am not sure you are talking about real mafia or not and I dunno about their strength in NY. Fucking with any organized crime ain't the same as fucking with gangbangers like crips. Its called organized for a reason and you don't wanna be on the badside of a mafioso.
I think its funny how the girl makes herself out to be this clever diva. This little story was pretty funny. Clearly a random Polish hustler was trying to get paid, all in a day's work in NYC... Outsmarting a sucker out of their money...
yeaaa i wouldnt mess wit the polish mob..they dont make the news that much but when u get on their bad side it can get ugly..my cousin called the cops on a couple polish mobsters once in greenpoint drinkin an makin alot of noise on the street,
first couple times he told them personally to leave or be quiet an they basically said what are you gonna do? go fuck yourself, so eventually called the cops, who came an gave them citations for public drinking, next day the came to his house an broke both his legs, his right arm, his jaw and gave him two black eyes an a bloody noise...an then stole his radio out of his car...so yea ...i wouldnt fuck the polish mob an there pretty tough up in greenpoint
sure that isint the only story about them
yes, the Polish mafia does exist. It's not too organized, except for a few small pockets, but it does exist. From what I saw while living/traveling there for one month is that there are thousands and thousands of young belligerent men in that country who *desperately* want the sense of belonging and protection that a club, so to speak, might give them. so they really begin to form these clubs, and lo and behold you soon have a situation that seems like a mafia. and these situations can and have, in Poland, grown to really unsafe threatening proportions.
There are here and there shady little businesses and business people in Poland who you'll soon get a creepy, frightening sense of danger around. Like they have violence in them. It's sad really-- Poland is unfortunately corrupt, and I assure you there are many people who want with all of their hearts for their country to be safe and thrive under justice. The law makers and law enforcers aren't loyal and committed to safety and justice. They are sometimes just as committed to their own shady, defensive, potentially very violent little circles as some 20 year old football hooligan.
So, I'm really not surprised that that "mafia-attitude" and violent look-out-for-kin mentality have made it over to the states. The good news is that, despite what these dirt thugs think they may get away with, United States law enforcement is pretty good at busting emerging mafia activity before it gets big and truly, literally life threatening.
Sorry you had to deal with that. You should call the cops and report it. give the cops their plate numbers and just put in a report. it can't hurt.
hey girl, im polish but i love the way u handled those bastards. i found ur blog by accident but u can be sure ill drop by once in a while. witty, smooth and fun to read, just dey go :D
not all polish guys are like that. they must of been raised wrong. I'm a polish guy and i would never do anything like that. Greenpoint is an awesome place to grow up and live. And just cause you got into a little stupid fight with two polish guys doesn't mean the polish mafia is coming for you. And if you mind that Greenpoint is an extremely Polish neighbourhood move back to the spoiled neighbourhood of Manhattan you came from and leave us working class polish people alone
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