A coloquialism meaing "lots of cash". Maybe short for "Big piles of money". Also, a hopeful mantra spoken by gamblers as they prepare to roll dice or pull the crank or whatever: "Big money, big money, big money, BIG MONEY! ... Ouch, snake eyes."
I walked briskly down the sidewalk, on my way crosstown to my apartment. As I rounded the corner onto Christopher Street, spotted him. Short, dirty, run down, dread locks. One of a breed. I didn't know which species and I didn't want to. I tried to evade his notice, to avoid him completely, but I failed.
He turned, making eye contact a split second before I looked away. "You there! Hey, my man," he projected engagingly.
A beggar? I kept walking, but he had me on the hook, and was going to land me or snap his line trying.
"You look like an intelligent young man," he sidestepped along with me, without directly getting in my way. "How would you like to make some Big Money."
A hustler obviously. I wished I were already home.
"No really! Look here. I know a sure-fire way to turn just a little money, into big money. And I mean, really big money."
I walked faster. How do I get rid of him?
"Like I said, I know you're smart guy. I know - I know - you won't let this opportunity go without at least finding out how you can do it. Anyone can do it, did I mention that? Anyone can make big money like this!"
I noticed he held a folder in both hands at chest level. We were half-way down the block by now.
"Stop for a second and let me show you how to make big money from a little money."
"Yes, please," I said turning to him impatiently. "PLEASE! Show me this 'big money' you keep talking about."
He turned the folder flat and opened the top. Inside lay a pristine full-color print of a one hundred dollar bill - only three times normal size. I shook my head as my scowl softened into a wide grin. "How much?"
"Well, for a fine young man like yourself, " he said, turning the print over to show the full-color reverse side as well, "only five little dollars for this one hundred dollars of Big Money."
I held up my bill in one hand, plucking his from folder with the other. "Sold. But you said you could tell how to make it," I teased.
My cash disappeared into some hidden pocket on his person, as he bowed and began to drift away. "Well, my dear friend... if you ever find a way to shrink the one you're holding back to normal size, we might make a deal." And then he was gone.