Day CXI

Marokino

    While the pie was still in the oven, James, hollered,

  “Yo, yo Vin, canya pleeease cut da pie ina ten slices, man!”

After a long pause, Vinnie, lamely responded.

     “Okay, dude, okay.”

    Then he went, bought the smokes, and as he paid for them, he says,

     “Vinnie, cuds we please have ten small cups foda sody, dude?”

     He didn’t say anything, but when he brought the pie and soda over, he also brought the ten cups. Vinnie was really pissed, and steam seemed to be coming out of his ears. He had been had by a kid. There was also, a little change left over, James kept it, and nobody said anything. We silently enjoyed our pizza, soda, and smokes. When we left, with our heads bowed, we all meekly said,

     “Thanks Vinnie!” one by one, on the way out.

     The next day Vinnie changed the menu. A slice was fifteen cents, the same for a soda, the whole pie was a buck fifty, and no free coke. I never forgot that, and when the flash back finished, I looked at him and said,

    “So ya an entwapwanuah, na, uh. Who wuda thunk it, dude.”

    “Yea man, ain’t life funny, uh.”

    “I see ya still smoking dem menthols!” I said as I lit up.

    “Yo man, membah Johnny’s candy sto?”

    “I was just thinking bootcha pizza capah!”

    “Haw haw haw, yea I think boudat once in a while too, man. But doya membah da time we locked John up in his own sto?

     “Haw haw haw… he hee heeee!”

     “Yea man, Giovanni… damn, an am again man…can’t membah his last name.”

     “Maro…maro…keeeno, yea, Marokino, man…dat was it, uh?”

     “No bwa, dat not it. Membah we used to call im dat, and he would chase us outa da freaking sto. Dat wuz some kinna talian diss, man.”

     “Yea, wite...did he eva gits pissed, uh!”