My 'Secret Mission', for the 'NYC Mob' (True Story)

Most of my old friends here on steemit know, from past stories that I have written, that I've had a slight, rubbing of elbows with mobsters...It's been awhile since I've related another true, perhaps entertaining story about my experiences so, here's another one.

                            

It was about the late seventies in New York City at the time. A very close friend of mine named Dominick approached me with an interesting, money making opportunity. It seemed that he was offered a one time shot at a 'secret mission' from some bent nosed types...

Dominick grew up as a street kid. His early life was a lot harder than mine. We both were kind of poor, but at least I didn't have a crazy mother who threw me out of the house at nine years old, like Dominick's mother did. He used to sneak into a movie house near closing time, and hide, in order to sleep there overnight. Supposedly, his father was dead...but, that's another story.

The Mob guys were willing to pay my friend $2,500. to drive a truck over to a loading dock in New Jersey, disappear for about an hour, then come back to drive the truck back to Queens. Of course Dominick wanted the money, but was a slight bit nervous about doing the job alone...That's where I come into the picture...

                             

Dominick turned to me for some help. Like a true friend would, he offered me half the money to ride along with him...just in case. In case of what? Well...we came up with all sorts of scenarios of things that might go wrong, and we hatched plans to deal with whatever it was that 'could' go wrong. About the only thing we couldn't figure out a plan for, was if space aliens attacked us along the way...

I encouraged my friend to try and get double the money for the job, but that wasn't going to happen, so we had to do it for a fifty-fifty split of the original amount. Not bad though...for a days work...long as we didn't get killed in the process. If we got pinched by the cops, we figured they would just take the cargo and let us go, with a kick in the ass...we wouldn't need to spend our small fortune on bail money.

                              

Of course we tried to figure out what might be in the back of the truck, but it would have been too dangerous to get too inquisitive...know what I mean? So, we hit the road with nervous smiles and just hoped for the best.

Driving the distance was a little scary. A couple of times we thought that we were being followed, so we got off the highway and pulled into a gas station as a ploy to see what happened with the imaginary tail...We sat there for about a half hour, chain smoking a pack of Kools and trying our best to look cool, even though our bug-eyed faces looked like the cat who ate the rat...

                              

When we got to the toll booths of the Tri-borough Bridge, Dominick became all friendly and tourist-like to the officer in the booth. "Hello Officer...How are you today?"

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"We're just out driving around, nothing special...enjoying the fresh air"

"Thank you very much."

"Now, have a wonderful day"...

I almost cracked up...We both did after leaving the toll booth; Dominick knew how odd he must have seemed, but he was always easy to poke fun of. It went both ways...we were close friends, besides...we had smoked a little wacky weed before the trip.

So, we finally found the loading dock we thought we might be looking for. It was an old dilapidated, looking warehouse with no vehicles in the weed invaded parking lot...Scratching our heads, we almost got back in the truck to drive away, but then a loading dock, bay door began to open.

                              

Out pops a fat guys face with a cigar in it who says, "Who the fuck are you...?" We said, "We're looking for the Pet Supply Place" (that was our cue the Mob guy told us to say) and then about four other faces appeared from inside the joint, all staring out at us.

"Who sent you?" The cigar guy asked.

We told him it was Joey, from Corona...(What we were told to say, again)

Mr. fat face told us to back the "fuckin" truck up to the dock, and get the fuck out of there. So, we did.

We waited for a little over an hour a few blocks away at a pizza joint, then came back to the old warehouse. The truck was fortunately still there. The dock door was back down; we got in the truck and left...

                            

Back in Queens at the meeting spot to return the truck, the guys who were there started screaming and cursing at us for "fuckin up" They said we went to the wrong place, and were in 'big' trouble with the boss...

Holy shit...we couldn't believe it...we told them to give us a gun, we'll go back there and get the stuff back...

Then they all started laughing. It was a joke...phew...

Dominick and I got the other half of the money for finishing the job, a slap on the back with a smile, and then we went home; still in  one piece...

I'm outta here...See ya next time.

Ciao

Another AngryMan Original, 'True Tale' on Steemit...May 4, 2018

Images from Pexels.com (Thank you)