Had turned thirteen the day after Christmas in 1959, was a Monday. Finally a teenager. Got up about eight in the morning, ran to the window in our apartment that overlooked Pratt and Divinity Streets. Could tell it was cold outside because we had these cast iron upright radiators in our place with these steam valves on them that whistled when they were very active, My mom always dressed all the windows with lace curtains. I swept them back at this particular window to see what the streets looked like. I could tell the snow plows had been by at least once during the night, but it was piling up again. Knew all the bookies would be at the West End Club before noon getting ready for some New Year’s action coming up. Was too early yet to go down the street. Studied my algebra book Mother John Francis had given me for about two hours, then went to the window again to see what was going on at our corner. Plows hadn’t come by again, now twice the snow. Could see a couple of my friends on their sleds going down the hill at Pratt Street, trying to knock each other off their sled, was a game we played. There were two things going through my mind. First, the bookies would have to walk to the West End Club from their parking spaces in their expensive cordovans on sidewalks covered with snow and salt. Second, they were all going to get hungry about noon, after a couple of beers, and wouldn’t want to walk over to Pete’s to grab a grinder. So, I could be both the shine guy fixing up expensive messy shoes, and also the waiter for Johnny Gatzuras at Pete‘s. Picked up the shine box from my bedroom about eleven, walked over to one of our whistling radiators and placed all the polish cans on top of it. The polish was already warm from being in the house all night, but even a short run to the corner could freeze them when it was cold up again, polish was almost like a person, could freeze up on you in a minute. Only had to leave them on the radiator for about a minute. Could tell just by placing my hand on them when they were OK. Turned out more bookies came into the West End Club that day than I expected. Everybody wanted their shoes fixed from the snow and salt, and everybody was hungry. I’d already gone over to Pete’s, across the bridge, for a couple of guys, two pastrami grinders, couple of hot dogs with meat sauce. Tip was pretty good. More guys started to come in, didn‘t know if I could handle this load. Was like out of a movie, beautiful Greek girl came swaggering into the club wearing leggings, boots, skirt, scarf around her neck, and a knitted blue hat. Nikki was dancing even when she was just walking. Came over to me, took off her hat, shook her hair out, gave me a Nikki smile. “My uncle called me, said you might need some help.” Was just finishing up a guy’s shoes I’d never seen before, looked up at her, “Yeah, thanks, do you want to take the shine stand, or go running to Pete’s for orders?” Smile back, “Joe, you know I can outrun you, on a desert, or in the snow“. Put her hat back on. “Give me the food orders.”
Posted on: Tue, 15 Oct 2013 21:52:16 +0000
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