Frank Sinatra in a Blender Read Online Free PDF Page B

in a hurry to leave. He scanned the room with desperate eyes until he found the man he was looking for. He walked up to the table and slid into an empty chair across from a huge Italian guy with a pile of dark hair on top, brown wasted eyes, and a bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon in the grip of his chubby hand.
    “Hey, how ya doin’ Tony?”
    Big Tony regarded him with suspicion and lit a cigar. He asked Telly what he wanted.
    Telly looked around, scratched at his arms. “Hey, man, I’m lookin’ for some shit, if you know what I mean.” He paused. “Some crank.”
    Big Tony gave him a smart look. Asked him what the fuck he was talking about?
    “C’mon man. I know you can find that shit, Tony. I’m desperate here, man. I need it bad.”
    “What the fuck I look like, shitbird? I don’t know nothin’ about whatever the fuck it is you think I know.”
    “Oh, that’s bullshit man!” Telly pounded the table with his fist. “C’mon man, I got money! Just hook me up, bro.” He produced three crinkled one hundred dollar bills from his pocket and tossed them in front of Big Tony. “See man, I got money.”
    Big Tony grabbed the money and jammed it in his shirt pocket.
    “Whutchya want, Telly?”
    Telly’s eyes were untamed, jumpy.
    “What do I want? I want dope godammit! C’mon, man.”
    “Okay,” Big Tony said. “Calm the fuck down. I’ll see what I can do.”
    “Yeah, please. Just make a call or somethin’,” Telly begged.
    Big Tony looked around, lowered his head. “How much you wantin’?”
    “As much as you can get Tony. An ounce. A pound, whatever. I got the money.”
    Big Tony couldn’t believe this bullshit. Telly was a tweaker. He didn’t have squat. He couldn’t believe he had three hundred dollars on him. But it sounded like he had more.
    “An ounce?” Big Tony asked sardonically. “ A pound , Telly? A motherfucking pound of crank? Are you high?”
    Telly shook his head. “Yeah, I know it’s a lot, Tony. I do. It’s a lot. But I got the money, man. I got the money. I just need this if you can help me, then I’m gettin’ the fuck outta here.”
    Big Tony nodded his head like he understood. But the only thing he understood was that Telly must be involved in something heavy. Tony had to find a way to separate him from whatever money he had and do it quick.
    “What’re you into Telly?” He thought about the credit union job, but it seemed like a stretch.
    Telly’s eyes scavenged into the dark corners.
    “C’mon Telly, sounds like you’re in over your head man. Maybe I can help.”
    Telly blinked his eyes, snorted air. Said all he needed was crank and he’d pay top dollar for it if Big Tony pulled through.
    “I’ll see what I can do.” Big Tony said he’d make a few calls. Told him an ounce was a lotta weight. He’d need to see more cash before he got involved.
    Telly said, “No problem.” He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and did a piss-poor job of trying to hide them as he counted under the table. He slapped five hundred down, pushed it over to Big Tony. “I’ll meet you in an hour. Crestwood Bowl, you know it?”
    Big Tony said he did. He told Telly he’d see what he could do. Eight hundred was a nice start, but he couldn’t get that much in an hour. There was just no way.
    Big Tony tested him. “What if I really could find a pound? You ain’t got that kinda cash, I know.”
    Telly laughed. “Trust me, man, I got plenty,” he said. “You find me some shit right fucking quick if you’re able and I’ll pay ya more than I owe’n then some.”
    Telly jumped up from his seat without warning. Told Big Tony to get what he could, then body checked a waitress on his way out as she brought Big Tony his latest PBR.
    Big Tony picked up his phone and started making calls.
    •••••
     
    When I opened my eyes I was sitting at a traffic light that had just turned green with my foot on the brake, the radio blasting and the blower from the heater on high. The