Sunday, February 21, 2010

Running Things.

Running things.

“I could make a job out of that!” Something I said six years earlier actually turned into a reality. I was convinced that I could make an improvement in organized crime. Told my girlfriend “They should let me join the mob! I know I could break someone’s fingers without a second thought.” And I could. No feeling bad. Anyone that crosses the Family has it coming. Smash. Crack. Wham. Down with the hammer. I knew it couldn’t be any harder than remaining impartial between my two kids. “Honestly they should hold recruitment fairs. I could earn my keep in more ways than one. I’m a pro at efficiency.”

How do you get involved in this unscrupulous business of crime? First of all it’s not corrupt and not everything is about crime. Secondly, if you ask the right question, they might let you join. It’s not who you know, it’s what you know. My experience comes from running a household and I knew without a doubt I could handle these types of affairs with effectiveness. A firm and gentle hand was all these situations needed. Only a woman could provide such a balance. One of my earlier tasks required that I corner a man in a room. Took his clothes from him and sure enough I had the upper hand. Like scolding one of my children only easier. That particular fellow cooperated. On the off chance they disagree, well, that’s where the muscle comes in handy.

Approaching the Family was rather intimidating. Muscle and weapons brought the unnecessary intimidation. The father figure, aka THE GODFATHER in the movies, was very friendly and hospitable about the matter. There wasn’t anything to the introduction. I simply inquired about work and the rest seemed all very ordinary. It wasn’t what I’d expected. And simply very normal. I suppose you could say ‘ordinary’ in a sick sense of the word. Of course anything is pleasant when you aren’t armed. Or clothed. The handful of thugs, made certain I was unwrapped and bare for the view. No chance of assassination from a helpless woman. I wasn’t one to point out the flaw in their logic. As a motivated woman could have found a way around that nudity restriction. Father invited me into his study among several other men. We talked about the situation and how I might be an asset. Judged and evaluated my skills seemed to be acceptable. Six years later I’m happily employed. 

Don’t be fooled it’s not all smashing heads in with a baseball bat! And do not let my polite exterior fool you. I can handle my own in a situation. Some people come along and try to skim from the Family’s money. I can’t abide by it and they deserve what they get. It’s not all mafia and hits. There’s a business side to things. Most people are given an opportunity to repent the indiscretion. The fun part, most of them don’t and it’s high time for swinging. Every now and then the boys look out for me. What I lacked in childhood for brothers I more than make up for now. On occasion when someone has to loose his eyes, I get a new pair of shoes. Last week, I got a pair of vintage Choo’s. What can I say? They keep me in nice things and I handle the pest control. You know the kind only a woman can. Pretty clothes seem a nice trade for a dead thief. I learn not to ask questions, just do as I’m told. That confidence earned me a new house for my family within six months of working. Sure I have to tell a small white lie to protect the Family.  What difference does it make if I’m an accountant at Bob’s billiards or an integral part of a ruthless crime family. See unnecessary small detail.

Making a career from nothing seems to be an asset from where I stand. Today that’s smashing in the right hand of a convicted felon. Stealing. Your mother really should have told you not to take things that don’t belong to you. The vice tightens around the small fingers. Small clicks are signs of the snapping bones. This is the law here. Your punishment equates the loss of limb. It is not my decision, only my orders to carry out. Seems antiquated. There have been improvements. Profit margins are more than tripled since I brought in my efficient business skills. Violent behavior is reviewed on a case by case option. The criminal before me has had ample warning and been repeatedly permitted to redeem himself. Several options laid out before him on more than one occasion. Honestly, I made something out of myself, why can’t he?

Another rewrite from my lost pieces. This was work related and from November. I’d entertained a lot of random suggestions from friends for work. My favorite? Little sis suggest I become a phlebotomist stripper. Blood taker by day/Pole dancer by night. Anyhow, looking for new work can be a challenge especially when you don’t know any other way. I was always good at running other people’s stuff. Just never my own. Maybe the mob will hire me? Who knows? Enjoy? kisses. m.

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