My Little Italian Neighborhood and stuff you Never Did

So, here’s the F……n story Charlie. We need money!!! What to do, what to do?

Hey Joey, how da f….k are ya, you f……n Moron? F,,,,k you a…….e, What da f..k do you want? Wanna hang at the pizzeria? The pizzeria, is what they call a pizza place in my Italian neighborhood.

Joey says, ain’t got no money dude. You got money, watch and learn moron.

On Saturday when I was 12 was the day my Mom did her food shopping. While that doesn’t sound like much, when an Italian Mom goes food shopping, she buys food, as if the world was coming to an end! Pasta, Sauce, Cans of all kinds of stuff, Cheeses, Meats, and in bulk. I mean bulk and back in the day there was no Costco, or Sams Club.

Ok, so Mom shops gets home about three, puts the stuff away and it’ time, for a little nap, before she starts dinna, that has to ready when my fadda gets home.

Time for me go to work…I go through the cabinets find all the staples, all the cans of corn. Twelve cans of corn, she won’t miss 5, Twelve cans of Soup, she won’t miss 4. and so on and so on. I put the stuff in a bag and head back to the grocery store she just came from.

I tell them my Mom, told me to return these items. Now in my Italian Neighborhood, every body knows everybody. So, without any questions they take the stuff back, no receipt needed and return me 23.55. My spending money for me and Joey.

Off to the pizzeria, we each order 2 slices and a coke. We each hand the pizza guy a buck and we get change back of a Quarta, enough left over for the Juke box. Yeah, back in the day, that’s what stuff costs. Imagine that!! So you see when my mudda goes shoppin it’s a payday for this 12 year old. 23 bucks is da s….t, when two slices and a coke is less than a dolla.

Okay fast forward 5 years, it’s high school, but I don’t feelin like goin today, nor do my 3 odder friends, you know what I’m tawkin about?

So we hang on da corner across from school and across from the park. No school for us today. Hey Paulie you f….n moron, what da you wanna do, huh. So Mr. Jones parks his MG, a block from the school, and right in the area where we hang.

Wanna go for a ride Tony, Paulie, Robbie? Robbie start this thing. I don’t know how, and I never asked any questions, but somehow Robbie knew how to get into Jone’s car and knew how to start it.

So off we went, just had to be back by three before school was out. Nah f…k that, we go through the neighborhood, and Mikie say’s hey Robbie, nice wheels. So off to the parkway and we are off for 5 hours and we invented Ferris Bueller’s day off!

Three O’clock comes, we get back to the our hangout across from the school, call and ask for Jones, the lady that answered the phone says he’ busy. Hey lady, can you give him a message, tell him his car is at A and P Supermarket on 290th avenue. Wears that she say’s, he knows, but about 5 blocks away.

So we took Jone’s car for a 5 hour ride and then parked it a half dozen blocks away, and Jones’ never knew who did it. No S..t Imagine that!!

That’s we did in my little italian neighborhood. What a Pissa, huh

What a bunch of f…n morons we were. We loved it.

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