by Patricia Bellomo | Jun 6, 2011 | Mob Blog
Perverts and Politics, June 7, 2011
[dcs_p] I have to laugh at this Congressman in New York, Anthony Weiner’s troubles. Victor and I are sitting at the bar in Bob Amante’s place in Deerfield, and this guy comes on the tube, blubbering about how sorry he is. Give me a break. Sorry he got caught, maybe. And how hard-up do you have to be to send pictures of yourself in the underwear your wife bought you, to try and entice some chick, especially one who’s two thousand miles away?[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Victor says it’s a pretty safe bet Weiner can’t get laid, and I have to agree. Having done business with politicians for years, I know how they operate. In fact, whenever I conduct business with any one of them, I tap the escort service my cousin, Anthony, sanctions and send the pol a freebie. Since they’re usually a bunch of squares with active fantasy lives who have no idea of how to talk to a woman, they’re always grateful. When I was in New Orleans, I used to send the girls by limo up the road to Baton Rouge, but I’ve flown pretty girls to D.C. and New York and Miami and Vegas … wherever the players are. Too bad Weiner’s never done business with me. I would have made sure he actually got laid without getting caught. But then, he’d be beholden to me.[/dcs_p]
by Patricia Bellomo | Jun 3, 2011 | Mob Blog
Baskets and Hockey, June 3, 2011
[dcs_p]End of the season, and it’s baskets and hockey. Nothing too good right now; there is no money left on the street. I have one book who lets his guys get too far. They double up on him on the weekend, and then he’s chasing them forever. And nobody has better sob stories than gamblers. I hear it all the time–I’m losing my home, my wife took my cash, and she’s leaving me. It’s not like the old days when you could bust a leg. In those days I never had trouble collecting, and I didn’t have wimp’s who couldn’t control their action giving me grief. Now you have to be nice. And no, I don’t take personal checks or VISA cards.[/dcs_p]
by Patricia Bellomo | Jun 1, 2011 | Mob Blog
Bimbo in the Buff, June 1, 2011
[dcs_p]Michael and his bimbo arrived yesterday for a week of R&R. In case you’re wondering, this is the blond with the super-size implants and prescription pill habit that got him into trouble in Lake City. To play it safe, they flew into West Palm, so I don’t think I’ll have to call on any contacts in Tallahassee to get him sprung from a redneck jail, but you never can tell. After a night of “clubbing”, the bimbo was hanging her head over the toilet bowl this morning. I thought they’d be all set for a day of rest, but Michael calls me at the office and wants to know if I’m taking the Stella out later. “Maybe to Miami,” he suggests.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Not a bad idea. It’s 85 degrees and sunny in Delray Beach, and I don’t need too many excuses for a play day. Plus, I don’t see my youngest son that often, and it’d be nice to spend some time with him. I call up my crew and tell them to prepare the Stella for a two o’clock departure. But I’m late leaving the office, and by the time Victor and I get to the Boca Yacht Club the bimbo’s sunbathing topless on deck, and my deckhand, Linda, is making her pina-coladas. “Her third in an hour,” Linda reports.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]I don’t mind drunk, topless women, and I’ve certainly had enough of them on board the Stella di Mare, but I say to Michael, “I hope you’re not serious with this girl.”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]He laughs. “Not a chance, dad. “I’m breaking up with her next week.”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Yeah right. I’ve heard this before. I look at Victor, and he shrugs, “Let the kid have fun, Lou.”[/dcs_p]
by Patricia Bellomo | May 23, 2011 | Mob Blog
Dinner at Tramonti, Delray Beach, May 23, 2011
[dcs_p]I’m sitting on Tramonti’s patio with Victor and my friend, Dominic, who has just arrived from Detroit. Ordinarily, we would be at the bar or a back table, but Dominic hasn’t seen the sun in weeks and wants to sit street-side. It’s a good choice because Atlantic Avenue is hopping, and pretty girls are parading back and forth in front of us. From the way Dominic is looking, I’m guessing the sun isn’t the only thing he’s missing up north.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]I’ve got my favorite waiter, Chris, taking care of us. He knows what I like and always orders for me, bringing out plates of rollatine melanzane and carpaccio di manzo as appetizers. A bottle of Chianti is on the table, and he pours three glasses. He’s talking Italian, but I’m only half listening. Chris is a charmer, and my wife adores him … as does my girlfriend. I think he prefers my girlfriend–and who wouldn’t–because he say’s, “No lady tonight, Lou?”[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]I say no, and he smiles. He’s a real pro–never gets the names confused, but then, he usually plays it safe and calls both women “Bella”. Tonight, he lingers at my side, making sure I’m pleased, before waiting on other tables. One couple starts grumbling, but Chris will make more from my tip than from all his other customers combined, and I’ll be back in a day or two.[/dcs_p]
by Patricia Bellomo | May 18, 2011 | Mob Blog
Family drama on the Stella di Mare, May 18, 2011
[dcs_]Stella’s feeing blue because her husband, Johnny, is a f___-up, and I’m furious about how he’s been treating my baby, but you’ll have to read Patricia Bellomo’s book, Louie Morelli’s Daughter, to see what I do about him. I don’t tell her how I feel, though. What’s the point? She knows I can’t stand him.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Anyway, I’m trying to get her mind off of things, and I ask her if she wants to take a little boat ride down to Miami. Stella’s thrilled about it, and I tell my wife, and suddenly it’s turning out to be a family day, and Victor’s planning on stone crabs for lunch, and we’re all waiting at the Marina in Boca when Stella shows up with Johnny. It’s a beautiful south Florida day, but it feels like the sun goes out of the sky. Stella comes aboard, and I can see she’s been crying. Angie says to me, “Louie, be nice,” but I’m having a tough time holding my temper, and I do all I can to keep myself from throwing Johnny overboard.[/dcs_p]
by Patricia Bellomo | May 16, 2011 | Mob Blog
Sahara: The End of an Era, May 16, 2011
[dcs_p]I turn on the television, and I see the the Sahara is done, and I start thinking about the old days in Vegas. I used to stay at the Sahara in the sixties and seventies–I think I first saw “The Checkmates” with Sonny Charles and my late buddy, Sweet Louie, in the lounge there, but I can’t remember exactly. It might have been Caesars or the Frontier or the Sands. Names synonymous with Sinatra and the rat-pack. There was a glamor to Vegas then that doesn’t exist today, and no matter what they do–how much money they spend on the hotels or the comps they give–it can’t be duplicated because the class is gone and it’s all a cheap imitation.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Back when the boys ruled Vegas you wore a jacket in the casino and a dinner jacket when you took your lady to a show. And your girl wore a sexy pantsuit or mini-skirt during the day and a slinky, sparkling gown at night. When you checked into the hotel, they knew who you were and where you from and what you did or didn’t do for a living. They sent booze to your room and arranged for a driver or a girl or whatever it is you were looking for, and you were glad to put your money on the table.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]Today you check in and they don’t know who you are, and they don’t care. The games are the same and the casinos are bigger, but the people are all different. I guess I was part of an era and never knew it. But I sure miss it.[/dcs_p]
