Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!
Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com    Poems On Site: 198,500+   Comments On Poems: 427,000+   Forum Posts: 105,000+
Custom Search
  Welcome ! Home  ·  FAQ  ·  Topics  ·  Web Links  ·  Your Account  ·  Submit Poetry  ·  Top 30  ·  OldSite Link 29-May 14:20:11 AEST  
  Menu
  Home
· Micks Shop
· Our eBay Store· Error Submit
 Poetry
· Submit Poetry
· Least Read Poems
· Topics
· Members Listing
· Old Site Post 2001
· Old Site Pre 2001
· Poetry Archive
· Public Domain Poetry
 Stories
· Stories (NEW ! )
· Submit Story
· Story Topics
· Stories Archive
· Story Search
  Community
· Our Poetry Forums
· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

  Site Help
· FAQ
· Feedback

  Members Areas
· Your Account
· Members Journals
· Premium Sign-Up
  Premium Section
· Special Section
· Premium Poems
· Premium Submit
· Premium Search
· Premium Top
· Premium Archive
· Premium Topics
 Fun & Games

· Jokes
· Bubble Puzzle
· ConnectN
· Cross Word
· Cross Word Easy
· Drag Puzzle
· Word Hunt
 Reference
· Dictionary
· Dictionary (Rhyming)
· Site Updates
· Content
· Special Content
 Search
· Search
· Web Links
· All Links
 Top
· Top 30
  Help This Site
· Donations
 Others
· Recipes
· Moderators
Our Other Sites
· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

  Social

Array ( [sid] => 135465 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Big Al 13 [time] => 2007-06-23 05:02:48 [hometext] => [bodytext] =>
We pulled into the Queen City next morning after driving all night. The Capstone Hotel gave us a room and I made calls to Floyd and Leo for a meeting at the Arena Gardens on Mutual Street where Henry Deglane was wrestling Strangler Lewis. I could kill two birds with one stone Saturday evening, meeting my booze suppliers and catch Toronto’s best wrestler in action. Floyd was manager of Black Horse Distillers and Leo point man for transferring my booze across the Detroit River into Purple Gang territory. They needed to be paid for continued service.
We slept most of all day Saturday, entering the hotel’s dining room in the early evening for supper. After medium rare filet mignons, baked potatoes, salads, and desserts we drove to a locked residential garage I’d been leasing since last year where I kept a suitcase full of money. I took five thousand dollars from the suitcase transferring the bills into a brown paper sack, finally throwing the sack into the back seat of the Buick. With the money in hand, I drove to the Arena Gardens.
Wrestling is not for real. It is all show of rough and tumble mat acrobatics which could just as well be on a Hippodrome or Pantages bill. I watched for a while then left Jean to go to the end bathroom to meet Floyd and Leo for he payoff. Things went well, their words telling me things would continue for a couple of more months as they were. Later, after the matches were over, Jean and I drove back to the Capstone to end the evening with a sandwich, sharing a carafe of coffee.
I spent Sunday morning in bed reading the Toronto Star Newspaper. Jean went swimming in the hotel’s pool and then a massage. We left for Chicago that afternoon arriving Monday morning. Jean took the Ford parked in the Regent’s garage and drove back to her apartment.
It wasn’t until late Monday afternoon that I opened the office without Jean. Miss DuPrey called. “ I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Where have you been?”
“ I had some business out of town. Got back this morning late and had to get some sleep. I’m sorry about the inconvenience it must have caused you. I’m glad you called.”
“ Yes, well I’ve decided to buy everything on the lists and would like to drop by your office with a down payment. Will you be there?”
“ Yes, Gloria. I’ll be here. I’d like to thank you for your business and I think you’ll be very happy with your selections.”
“ I’m leaving the Sheldon Arms now and should be there in thirty minutes.”
“ Very good, Gloria. I’ll be waiting.”
She hung up. No sooner had she hung up then the outer door buzzer sounded letting me know I had a visitor,. I went out to see who it was. It was Dooling. Danny Boy was short with droop shoulders, middle age with graying brown hair. He wore a light brown corduroy jacket with dark brown slacks, a white shirt with brown bow tie. His shoes were cordovan brogans. He looked a little angry.
“ Berger, I thought maybe I misunderstood your phone call. I was here Saturday, but no you.”
“ I’m back. I spent the weekend in Toronto, sudden business.”
“ You still want me to find out who’s trailing you?”
“ Yes.”
“ Where’s the twenty you mentioned?”
“ I reached into my wallet and took out twenty and gave it to him.
“ Haven’t seen the guy you described yet, maybe now that you’re back he’ll show up.”
Danny Boy chewed gum. He stopped long enough to give the room number where he was staying while in Chicago. Number 415 was on the fourth floor of the Hixson Hotel on
West Madison. I knew the street with its flop hotels that reeked of bad plumbing and dirty rugs that should have been replaced years ago.
“ I’ll keep in touch with you,” he said.
“ I gave him my regent phone number. “ Tonight I’m going to the hockey game and won’t be back until late. Leave a message with the Super if it’s important. I’ll get it.”
“ You won’t see me, but I’ll be at the game.”
“ Get out now and start earning that Jackson.”
His jaws went to work of the gum again as he headed out the door. My phone in the inner office rang. It was Nueland.
“ Got that information you wanted on Miss Gloria DuPrey. She’s just in from New York city and had been living at the Ritz Hotel in Manhattan. Her father was a bill bondsman and couldn’t have left her much. That’s all I could find out about her.”
“ Thanks Nueland. You’ve helped a great deal.”
“ Don’t call again. We’re even and that settles the score.”
He hung up.
How could Miss Gloria DuPrey afford to own an expensive house in the Lakefront district when her father had not left her a large inheritance? Seems the young lady had lied about that, but really, how she got the money was no concern of mine. Maybe she earned it in some way or other and didn’t want to expose that part of her life to a stranger. I was going to be her agent in buying antique Victorian furniture and I’d leave things at that.
When she walked into the office I was all smiles. She was as stunning as ever this time in an outfit of soft blue pastel with belt. Her handbag was dark blue as where her high heel pumps. A wide brim matching dark blue hat was tilted down over her left eye. She wore peal earrings, her lips the same coral color as before. Sitting in my office she spoke.
“ I have a check for a thousand dollars that’ll be my down payment. She handed me the check already made out. “ When can I expect delivery?”
“ Shouldn’t take anymore than a week. I’ll call the furniture companies tomorrow and they’ll probably make your delivery by then.”
She opened her handbag taking out a silver cigarette case. Opening it she leisurely took out a cigarette putting it to her lips. I gave her a light from the book of matched I had quickly taken out of my coat pocket.
“ Thanks,” she said blowing smoke away. For a long second she looked at me as though she were trying to make up her mind about something. With a smile she said, “ Big Al, has anyone ever told you your gray temples make you look distinguished?”
All in a moment our conversation had changed from business to compliments. I didn’t know where this might lead so I simply answered. “ Several times but age will do that for anyone.”
“ No, I think you’re special. I’ve a car waiting for me downstairs. Why don’t we go over to the Yacht Club together and talk some more about your gray temples over dinner.”
“ Sounds positively inviting, but I’m taking a very fine lady to the hockey game tonight and she’d be terribly hurt if I stood her up.”
A flash of anger in her eyes told me she wasn’t used to being rejected.
“ Maybe another time,” she said.
“ Yes, I’d like that.”
She crushed her cigarette out in my desk ashtray, standing then to put out a hand.
“ The invitation will always be open,” she said.
I shook her hand, feeling a little bad about the rejection. “ Sometimes I lose out not meaning to. If you’d asked me last week, I’d jump at the chance. It’s not often I’ve been asked out by a beautiful young woman.”
She gave me a smile. “ Call me tomorrow.”
“ What’s your number at the Sheldon Arms?”
“Ridgecrest 4372.”
“ That ring you hear will be me.”
She laughed. “ I find you absolutely fascinating. I shouldn’t talk like this, but there’s an excitement about you that I love.”
“ What’s better, my gray temples or excitement?”
“ Excitement every time.”
“ I think we’re going to have fun together.”
“ My car’s waiting. I’ve got to go.”
“ I’ll call you around seven in the evening.”
“ Well then,” she smiled over her shoulder walking toward the door. “Until tomorrow. Twenty-three skidoo.”
After she’d gone I went to the office bottle and gave it a strong pull.
[comments] => 0 [counter] => 172 [topic] => 21 [informant] => ramfire [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
Big Al 13

Contributed by ramfire on Saturday, 23rd June 2007 @ 05:02:48 AM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems




We pulled into the Queen City next morning after driving all night. The Capstone Hotel gave us a room and I made calls to Floyd and Leo for a meeting at the Arena Gardens on Mutual Street where Henry Deglane was wrestling Strangler Lewis. I could kill two birds with one stone Saturday evening, meeting my booze suppliers and catch Toronto’s best wrestler in action. Floyd was manager of Black Horse Distillers and Leo point man for transferring my booze across the Detroit River into Purple Gang territory. They needed to be paid for continued service.
We slept most of all day Saturday, entering the hotel’s dining room in the early evening for supper. After medium rare filet mignons, baked potatoes, salads, and desserts we drove to a locked residential garage I’d been leasing since last year where I kept a suitcase full of money. I took five thousand dollars from the suitcase transferring the bills into a brown paper sack, finally throwing the sack into the back seat of the Buick. With the money in hand, I drove to the Arena Gardens.
Wrestling is not for real. It is all show of rough and tumble mat acrobatics which could just as well be on a Hippodrome or Pantages bill. I watched for a while then left Jean to go to the end bathroom to meet Floyd and Leo for he payoff. Things went well, their words telling me things would continue for a couple of more months as they were. Later, after the matches were over, Jean and I drove back to the Capstone to end the evening with a sandwich, sharing a carafe of coffee.
I spent Sunday morning in bed reading the Toronto Star Newspaper. Jean went swimming in the hotel’s pool and then a massage. We left for Chicago that afternoon arriving Monday morning. Jean took the Ford parked in the Regent’s garage and drove back to her apartment.
It wasn’t until late Monday afternoon that I opened the office without Jean. Miss DuPrey called. “ I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Where have you been?”
“ I had some business out of town. Got back this morning late and had to get some sleep. I’m sorry about the inconvenience it must have caused you. I’m glad you called.”
“ Yes, well I’ve decided to buy everything on the lists and would like to drop by your office with a down payment. Will you be there?”
“ Yes, Gloria. I’ll be here. I’d like to thank you for your business and I think you’ll be very happy with your selections.”
“ I’m leaving the Sheldon Arms now and should be there in thirty minutes.”
“ Very good, Gloria. I’ll be waiting.”
She hung up. No sooner had she hung up then the outer door buzzer sounded letting me know I had a visitor,. I went out to see who it was. It was Dooling. Danny Boy was short with droop shoulders, middle age with graying brown hair. He wore a light brown corduroy jacket with dark brown slacks, a white shirt with brown bow tie. His shoes were cordovan brogans. He looked a little angry.
“ Berger, I thought maybe I misunderstood your phone call. I was here Saturday, but no you.”
“ I’m back. I spent the weekend in Toronto, sudden business.”
“ You still want me to find out who’s trailing you?”
“ Yes.”
“ Where’s the twenty you mentioned?”
“ I reached into my wallet and took out twenty and gave it to him.
“ Haven’t seen the guy you described yet, maybe now that you’re back he’ll show up.”
Danny Boy chewed gum. He stopped long enough to give the room number where he was staying while in Chicago. Number 415 was on the fourth floor of the Hixson Hotel on
West Madison. I knew the street with its flop hotels that reeked of bad plumbing and dirty rugs that should have been replaced years ago.
“ I’ll keep in touch with you,” he said.
“ I gave him my regent phone number. “ Tonight I’m going to the hockey game and won’t be back until late. Leave a message with the Super if it’s important. I’ll get it.”
“ You won’t see me, but I’ll be at the game.”
“ Get out now and start earning that Jackson.”
His jaws went to work of the gum again as he headed out the door. My phone in the inner office rang. It was Nueland.
“ Got that information you wanted on Miss Gloria DuPrey. She’s just in from New York city and had been living at the Ritz Hotel in Manhattan. Her father was a bill bondsman and couldn’t have left her much. That’s all I could find out about her.”
“ Thanks Nueland. You’ve helped a great deal.”
“ Don’t call again. We’re even and that settles the score.”
He hung up.
How could Miss Gloria DuPrey afford to own an expensive house in the Lakefront district when her father had not left her a large inheritance? Seems the young lady had lied about that, but really, how she got the money was no concern of mine. Maybe she earned it in some way or other and didn’t want to expose that part of her life to a stranger. I was going to be her agent in buying antique Victorian furniture and I’d leave things at that.
When she walked into the office I was all smiles. She was as stunning as ever this time in an outfit of soft blue pastel with belt. Her handbag was dark blue as where her high heel pumps. A wide brim matching dark blue hat was tilted down over her left eye. She wore peal earrings, her lips the same coral color as before. Sitting in my office she spoke.
“ I have a check for a thousand dollars that’ll be my down payment. She handed me the check already made out. “ When can I expect delivery?”
“ Shouldn’t take anymore than a week. I’ll call the furniture companies tomorrow and they’ll probably make your delivery by then.”
She opened her handbag taking out a silver cigarette case. Opening it she leisurely took out a cigarette putting it to her lips. I gave her a light from the book of matched I had quickly taken out of my coat pocket.
“ Thanks,” she said blowing smoke away. For a long second she looked at me as though she were trying to make up her mind about something. With a smile she said, “ Big Al, has anyone ever told you your gray temples make you look distinguished?”
All in a moment our conversation had changed from business to compliments. I didn’t know where this might lead so I simply answered. “ Several times but age will do that for anyone.”
“ No, I think you’re special. I’ve a car waiting for me downstairs. Why don’t we go over to the Yacht Club together and talk some more about your gray temples over dinner.”
“ Sounds positively inviting, but I’m taking a very fine lady to the hockey game tonight and she’d be terribly hurt if I stood her up.”
A flash of anger in her eyes told me she wasn’t used to being rejected.
“ Maybe another time,” she said.
“ Yes, I’d like that.”
She crushed her cigarette out in my desk ashtray, standing then to put out a hand.
“ The invitation will always be open,” she said.
I shook her hand, feeling a little bad about the rejection. “ Sometimes I lose out not meaning to. If you’d asked me last week, I’d jump at the chance. It’s not often I’ve been asked out by a beautiful young woman.”
She gave me a smile. “ Call me tomorrow.”
“ What’s your number at the Sheldon Arms?”
“Ridgecrest 4372.”
“ That ring you hear will be me.”
She laughed. “ I find you absolutely fascinating. I shouldn’t talk like this, but there’s an excitement about you that I love.”
“ What’s better, my gray temples or excitement?”
“ Excitement every time.”
“ I think we’re going to have fun together.”
“ My car’s waiting. I’ve got to go.”
“ I’ll call you around seven in the evening.”
“ Well then,” she smiled over her shoulder walking toward the door. “Until tomorrow. Twenty-three skidoo.”
After she’d gone I went to the office bottle and gave it a strong pull.




Copyright © ramfire ... [ 2007-06-23 05:02:48]
(Date/Time posted on site)





Advertisments:






Previous Posted Poem         | |         Next Posted Poem


 
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.


While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com