"You scream, they scream, kids all scream for ice cream!"

I don't scream. However, I do appreciate having a cash business on 12th Street from which to carry on private conversations, to reward the little kids on the block for their attention to changes in the neighborhood, and with which to gently soak and rinse income. When I heard that old man Calabria passed on, God rest his soul, and that good for nothing son of his would inherit the Gelato da Napoli business, I decided to invite him for a night on the town. For the price of a couple of girls and several bottles of champagne, I made friendly. Emma and Giulia paid such close attention to him, stroked his greasy head, and acted like they'd never seen a man before. They earned their wage.

Toward the end of the planned evening, I sent the girls to the back room and suggested that he should go home to his wife. "In the back room, it's easy to lose track of time!" Hooked like the fish he is, the bottom feeder couldn't miss out. He insisted that she would be fine, that everything was copacetic in their relationship since he ran into his inheritance. Anyone who tells you that money makes them happy is about to run out.

In the back, the girls were changing into something even less appropriate for proper social graces, powdering their noses, and pouring strong drinks for some friends of ours. The seats at the poker table were all full, so I turned down the invitation to play, saying that I would need some rest before too long. The girls draped on the players and said to Johnny boy, "Oh you should play tonight! Let us bring you good luck!" They slurred more than before.

His predatory instinct kicked in at the same time as his sanity, so he excused himself. "Sorry ladies, the table is full!"

Giulia pointed to a chair near the door and challenge the players, "Oh you guys are afraid of him, aren't you? Johnny's going to mop up your money!"

From there it was all downhill. My dealer switched decks when he was at his weakest from staying up too late, drinking, getting a taste in the WC, and losing money slowly. The cards were sorted to lay him out cold. With pocket kings, he bet large from the outset. Three followed him in. The flop showed 10, queen, king of spades, giving him a huge top set with little to fear. He pushed harder. A blank followed. He feigned a busted flush by checking. The other players tried to push him out. He stuck to his guns. The river was everything he ever dreamed: the fourth king. He pushed. Two dropped and one player remained, the big stack at the table. He was $10,000 short of being able to call.

I could hear his cheeks dripping saliva as he tried to think of what he would do with nearly 50 large. He knew without any doubt that he had the pot. Maybe there would be a straight, or a flush, but he had never heard of 4 kings losing. He asked if anyone would loan him the money, but the room was silent. Big stack asked me, "Caezar, will you vouch for this kid?"

I dragged out my response, made him beg, poured myself a drink, made him beg again, until finally just as he was about to cry I said, "I think I have an idea how we can make this make sense. After all, 10 large is an awful lot of money. Sign this marker against your pop's shop and I'll give you the money to cover. The vig is 10%, though, so don't hold out on me."

With his fortune on the line against a rigged game, he showed his cards, acted like a fool, and then threw up on the cards when he saw big stack's suited 9 and jack. I swear to you, this took no more than one second between seeing the cards and messing up the place. Two of the guys punched his clock immediately and then took him home. We didn't say another word but he came around a few days later with an envelope so light I thought it was made of feathers. We had a nice conversation in the back room, he eventually saw the light, and handed over the keys to the shop.

"Now Johnny, to show you there are no hard feelings, I promise you that when your son is old enough, we'll have him run the shop and take home a nice bit of money."

He screamed.

Welcome to Gelato Calabria, so named in honor of the late great founder, as we honor family and tradition above all else!

Please, come in, eat! It's all on the house today.

Frank came to visit his Uncle Joe in Detroit it was a chance to see family and enjoy the city without dealing with the daily grind.  He walked down the streets with Gus, Tommy and his newest Lieutenant Carlo they walked into Gelato Calabria for some Italian ice.  The flavors of home is what they sault after.  They were on a good turn of events and wanted to make the best out of the day.  

They each ordered a bowl and then sat outside an eat, they laughed and joked about the people that walked by and the women they saw.  They even purchased a few ice cream cones for the young kids that looked as if they would never be able to afford one.  Frank always looked out for the kids.  They don't get a choice in who their parents are.