RaymondPatriaca stands on the corner of 18th and Park right in the middle of Union Square in Manhattan. Raymond pulls out his pack of unfiltered Luckys and lights one. He doesn't think he's going to be around long enough to worry about lung issues. With the lit cig in his mouth he walks down 18th Street towards Irving.

He likes Manhattan, better yet he loves Manhattan. Not the fancy Park Ave crowd up by Central Park, or all the flappers trying to swindle what's left of the Wall Street Boys downtown, although he did enjoy going out to Long Island for Jay Gatsby's parties back in the day, but right here by Tammany Hall in Union Square. It's so easy to shake down two-bit city politicians. Take them for a dinner at Pete's Tavern make sure friendly measures are passed that favor his Boss the great One-Eyed Jack.  He passes Tammany Hall and slides into an unmarked Speak Easy. A small but good crowd is there and the bartender has his glass of Pinot Noir waiting. He takes a sip, drops a c-note on the bar takes the glass with him and joins a female friend the singer, in the back booth for drinks and conversation before her set starts.

Yes, Manhattan will do just fine and we'll have a nice run here, thinks RaymondPatriaca.