FIRST DATE

 Mupp called the other day. "Now that Shewo is up here, how about the two of you going on a double date with Ginger and I?" My immediate reaction was horror. Is this what my life had turned into- going on old people forays with my brother and sister-in-law? Was Yani in town? Then he explained that old friend Ted Horowitz (aka bluesman Poppa Chubby) was going to be playing at a roadhouse in Middletown. I guess I could pry my ass off the mountain for a double D for that. Of course I didn't have to ask Shewho twice. After being involved in one way or another for 25 years, this was our first formal date. Should I buy a corsage?
    By the time we had downed a few beers and were licking the BBQ sauce from our fingers, Ted showed up. When I say he filled the doorway, I'm not exaggerating. They don't call him "Chubby" for nothing. I hadn't seen the big man in over 20 years. When I got his attention with "Hey Ted." he responded like I was just another adoring, old, biker fan. After re-introductions he sat down to catch up. Our real connection was dead mutual friend Jerry Williams. Stories were told about a Harley and John Bloodclot knife fight and Cromags' shenanigans. These were "Jerry's kids". Another bite to eat and Poppa hit the stage.
   Ted was always a player, but 20 years on the "blues" circuit had turned him into a virtuoso. The old beat up Fender responded to his every touch. Never lacking in self-confidence and sprinkling it with doses of self-parody Poppa C. put on a helluva show. I looked around the room. I may look like a biker, but it's all "drag" for me. I'm a poser. This crowd was the real deal. NY HELLS ANGELS (retirement division) lined the bar. Everyone was head bobbing and raising the "devil fingers". Two hours into the set, trying to keep up with my brother beer for beer, and I'd had enough. As I used to tell Jerry Williams- "Too much diddala- diddala." Finally Shewho and I drove home in the pounding rain.

As I remember, usually on a first date, after paying for food and drink and squiring the young lady to and fro, one can expect something a little more than a hearty handshake at the end of the evening. Plying the debutante with alcohol doesn't hurt. I was not to be disappointed. After a rousing game of strip Scrabble, Shewho and I drifted off to sleep. It was 4:00 am when the world came alive again. It sounded like someone was dropping bombs on the house. At first I tried to ignore it, thinking it was Carlito or RNButch having a late night party. After 30 mins. I called the cops. It was my Italian neighbors lighting off sticks of dynomite just for fun. I've been feuding with these assholes for years and had thought the war was over. I was wrong.

As work on the Lion Cage continues, all my neighbors stop by with ideas on what to do with the Italians. Bronco Billy suggested a tractor trailer of chicken shit. Buddy Budde came by with a dead sheep. Diamond Dave wants to do a drive by and even the Commish and Lulu want justice. They could hear it 5 miles away. For once it's not just "crazy" Mike fighting with his neighbors. Welcome to my world people. I like all the suggestions. Shewho is back at WSSP, waiting by the phone to be asked on the second date.  The first one went well. But lets not rush things. Slow and easy. I don't want to fuck up a good thing.