The moneyless have special needs, and social workers haven’t figured that out yet.
Sidelined Asian-American day trader, Frat Boke, put it best. “We don’t need home. We got home. We don’t need soup. We got soup. What moneyless need is margin.”
“Margin?"
“No margin,” Frat explained, “no stocks.”
The cash balance in your Crime Family account is what you bring to the table. It‘s called margin if you tell their grifter to buy more stock than your wad can actually pay for. The 2008/09 market holocaust took Frat’s margin away, and now he doesn’t have any anymore.
“So why they send me homeless shelter?” the sidelined day trader questioned. “Just need somebody pay down margin calls.”
The sisters at Our Lady of the Descension had arranged for this meeting. They didn’t know what a margin call was, and wondered if anyone at The MacDougal Post could help figure out what in the world Frat Boke was talking about.
“I think Mr. Boke wants us to give him some money,” Mother Bereft guessed, eyes wide with wonder. People give the nuns money, and they give other people soup, is how it usually works.
“She no understand,” Frat understood.
We were sitting in the convent’s soup kitchen with maybe 300 of the recently disinvested, and nobody was eating their soup. Mother, a.k.a. Sister Superior, looked worried. The nuns had gone out and bought 300 brand new bowls in case that was it, and a bunch of those big round soup spoons instead of the kind that look like regular ones, only bigger.
Still, nobody was eating their soup.
Fruitful dialogue began, and the subject quickly turned to shelters. Sister Superior could start by finding them a moneyless shelter, Mr. Boke suggested. A tax-free moneyless shelter in the Cayman Islands maybe, or Lichtenstein. Offshore financing for sure, possibly through a foreign trust. It made sense to set things up right from the get-go.
“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” Mother Berift whispered. Illuminating exchanges developed. Eventually Mr. Boke came up with something else.
There were plenty of homeless shelters in the city. The moneyless could get tons of soup there. They could bring it all back to Mother Bereft.
The moneyless would give the nuns soup, and the nuns would give the moneyless margin. And go find somebody else to feed. Some people would be giving Mother Bereft money and she would be giving it to other people who were giving her soup so she could give completely different people soup, and the nuns didn‘t have to make any.
A bailout. Just like on TV. Mother Bereft hoped the economy turned up soon so that Mr. Boke and the pack of them could go find jobs and “just get the Hell out of my kitchen“, is how Sister Superior ended up couching it herself.
