Mob Blog: Sands Waterfront Bar
Sands Waterfront Patio Bar, Pompano Beach, Florida
[dcs_p]I did Louie Morelli an enormous favor without ever having met him. It had something to do with his punk son-in-law Johnny Romano, who happens to be from my hometown of Clinton Township, Michigan—a suburb of Detroit. I know Johnny’s father, a stand-up guy, but Johnny isn’t anything like his old man, and it’s too bad for Morelli that Johnny married his beautiful daughter, Stella.
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[dcs_p]Today, I met Morelli for the first time. He’s got his eighty-foot Hatteras, the Stella di Mare, docked at the Sands for the day. I’m sitting at the tiki bar with my friend Dominic, his blond lady friend, and a young looker I’ll be taking from the dinner table to my hotel room later tonight. I’m seventy-five and married, and some people might think I’m too old to fool with women, but those people don’t know me or my lifestyle.[/dcs_p]
[dcs_p]The bowl games are on and I’m taking action, two phones running and a sheaf of paper with the lines and my bettors bets scribbled across it. I’m trying to be discreet—you never know who might be watching. I know a group of guys who went down to the Keys one year, and the Feds followed them, waiting on them at the resort they were staying at. So you’ve got to be careful.[/dcs_p]
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Anyway, Morelli likes me, and he’s very grateful for the favor I did him, and he’s going to let me blog on his website. By the way, my name is Vito. I’ve been on the street fifty years—and I’ve seen it all. So check in from time to time. I might have something interesting to say.[/dcs_p]
