11 April 2012
516
R. Linda:
So there I was, waiting to do an interview on this guy who said he was wrongly accused of a crime. I had rung ahead, was granted the interview and when I got there, "He's out. Be back soon. Come in and sit it down, take a load off." That's what was said to me. So, I came in, and was shown a seat at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee was slammed down in front of me, with "Here's da milk, heres' da sugah, help yaself, spoons on da counta." I did.
The two ladies I had interrupted went back to a mess of papers on the table. I stirred me coffee and tried to make it like I wasn't there.
"Rosa! Comon' think will ya! What . . . WAS . . . grandma's . . . name?"
I stopped stirring and stared.
"Conniee I dunno, sometimes she was Angelina, sometimes she was Gertrude, and sometimes she was Francesca."
"Ya think she had multiples?"
"Wah what multiples? Like aliases?"
"Like personalities, don't be so stoopid."
Rosa made a face and said what her facial expression was suggesting out loud, "Get serious."
Rosa went through some papers as her sister clicked the keys on a laptop I hadn't noticed before. It was opened to Ancestry.com.
"Sos Con, I looked her up under Felacio, Alissio, Ciasco, everythin' short of Tonto and nuthin."
"She's gotta be in dare. Ya think she was in the witness protection programme?"
Oi. I didn't know what to do, so I sipped my coffee and turned to look out the window.
"Rosa, my sistah, I love ya ya knows dis, but yer not helpin'." And click, click, click back to the laptop.
"Sos Con, I got heah dad's birth certificate an it says he was born ovah dare not heah. Sos I went back and looked up passengah ships from Palermo and I found one dat is definitely him."
"Ya done good sis. But does it say who his fathah and mothah were?"
"Well, because dad's name is a common furst name any a dese people could be his parent."
"Whadda ya mean?"
"Well the last name is Bonanno and accordin ta da record I got heah his fathah is Giuseppe."
"Giuseppe Bonanno? That's great sos look up Giuseppe."
"Doya know how many Giuseppe Bonannos dare are? Quite a few, hundreds, AND dey all had sons named G-O-vonni."
Oh my, a dilemma for sure I thought with a sigh. I was watching the birds on the bird feeder and the Siamese cat sneaking up from the kitchen sink to get a good look at them. It was a matter of time before he popped up and scared those birds shite less, but meanwhile, Connie and Rosa were entertaining me no end.
"Look it should be easy ta track cuz dad came over heah and . . . uh . . ." Rosa looked a little confused and I wanted to ask her what but well, I was trying hard to mind me own business.
"Rosa, dey was all criminals came ovah heah."
"Conniee are you sayin' dad's a criminal?"
"Nah, I'm just sayin', right? Uh oh," Connie said pausing and looking at the laptop, "I hate ta tell ya dis but dose criminals came over heah, well dare criminals ovah dare too! Sos da whole family ovah dare and ovah heah, are all of da criminal persuasion."
And she nodded her head knowingly at her sister.
"Well, it's Sicily ain't it? Okay, sos maybe we need somthin' more ta go on."
Do you think? Maybe a few police records? An FBI report? I was sitting there thinking I should leave, but just as I was about to open me gob the cat popped up and leapt at the window and in a shocking turn of events the birds took off as the cat slid down the window, making a scratchy/squeaky sound, and into the other side of the double sink which was full of water and dirty dishes. As if that wasn't enough, as soon as it felt the water it shrieked and jumped straight up into the air doing a back flip that landed it smack on me coffee cup which I had just placed on the table, and that spilled all over the criminal history, sorry I mean genealogy research the two sisters had been working on, if you can call it that.
BUT and that's a big BUT, neither of them seemed to care. They said something about the cat being crazy while I got up and found some paper towels and mopped up the mess. They didn't lose a beat because as I sat down blotting their papers, Connie said to Rosa, "Ya remembah dat guy whatshisname, da one we thought was a boxah? Well, the boxah is dis guy," and she flips the laptop screen so Rosa can see it, "Gratizano right?"
"Yeah so?"
"Well, hold on," and she clicks the screen and says while doing it, "Sos the Grat-Z-ano we knew and thought was da boxah is really dis guy who turns out to be wanted criminal numbah one." And she spins the laptop around and Rosa gasps.
"OH MY GAWD. And dat guy usta visit us. He was IN OUR HOUSE!"
I almost jumped out of me skin. I caught a look at the split screen, one was the boxer I recognised even from being brought up abroad, but worse I recognised the career criminal hitman as the other, and strange it was I who burst out laughing. I did not mean to, but it was all so ludicrous. They both looked at me. Then as if THAT didn't happen like the cat didn't happen, they went on.
"Rosa, I feel like I should be talkin' in an Italian accent wit all dese Angelos, and Matteos, and Pasquales, and Pietros we got heah," and she giggled.
And I thought to myself, but you ARE talking with Italian accents with a whole lot of little Brooklyn thrown in, you've been talking with Italian accents the entire time I've been here. Come on!
"Sos ya think Uncle Joe was really Joey Bananas?"
"Yeah, an HE WAS IN OUR HOUSE TOO!"
Oh my. I looked at my watch, I should go I thought, but Connie said I should have some lunch with them, thus curtailing my leave-taking because this invitation so stunned me, I had no excuse at the ready to refuse an offer that I kind of knew I couldn't or wouldn't be allowed to refuse.
"Hey you," Rosa said shoving me in the shoulder as she got up, "ya wan sum sushi?"
"Uh, sure," I said confused. Where the hell did the Mafia girls get sushi from? Well, they had it, they laid it out and apologised for not having chopsticks, but the spoons were clean! SPOONS? I was about to experience a new culinary art form -- sushi with spoons!
So then there was a discussion that I should try the HOT WASABI sauce and that was poured on everything whether I wanted to try it or not. Rosa spooned on her piece of sushi and said to me, and I can't believe she said what she said, but she did, she said, "So down da hatch may Luca Brasi CONTINA ta sleep wit da fishes." And she popped her sushi in her mouth like an oyster and then her eyes started to bulge out of her head, big tears making them red, as she croaked she needed water fast and her accommodating sister got right up, found an empty but dirty glass on the counter, swiped it in the dishwater the cat had landed in, and was still filled with dirty dishes, and there Rosa had instant water to wash down the sushi with cat fur and soapsuds WHICH . . . she did! YUP. I was horrified. I can't think of a more appropriate word than that one.
That was enough for me, I had to excuse meself that I needed to use their water closet which they had no clue what a water closet was, but I could use the sink they said, and in a fit of uncontrollable laughter I took meself to the living room and out the door because I could not stay in that environment one second longer!
I be back at the office now. Yes, I am recovered somewhat, no interview and I won't be going back. Nooo I think I'd rather sniff the air fresheners of which I have ten now. My collection is growing with the days as the stink increases from non-bathing practises Mr. Macthornton either refuses to engage in or has never heard of. Whichever the case may be, I am finding I get high now off air freshener products. I should write about that but well, I be sort of zoned.
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
So there I was, waiting to do an interview on this guy who said he was wrongly accused of a crime. I had rung ahead, was granted the interview and when I got there, "He's out. Be back soon. Come in and sit it down, take a load off." That's what was said to me. So, I came in, and was shown a seat at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee was slammed down in front of me, with "Here's da milk, heres' da sugah, help yaself, spoons on da counta." I did.
The two ladies I had interrupted went back to a mess of papers on the table. I stirred me coffee and tried to make it like I wasn't there.
"Rosa! Comon' think will ya! What . . . WAS . . . grandma's . . . name?"
I stopped stirring and stared.
"Conniee I dunno, sometimes she was Angelina, sometimes she was Gertrude, and sometimes she was Francesca."
"Ya think she had multiples?"
"Wah what multiples? Like aliases?"
"Like personalities, don't be so stoopid."
Rosa made a face and said what her facial expression was suggesting out loud, "Get serious."
Rosa went through some papers as her sister clicked the keys on a laptop I hadn't noticed before. It was opened to Ancestry.com.
"Sos Con, I looked her up under Felacio, Alissio, Ciasco, everythin' short of Tonto and nuthin."
"She's gotta be in dare. Ya think she was in the witness protection programme?"
Oi. I didn't know what to do, so I sipped my coffee and turned to look out the window.
"Rosa, my sistah, I love ya ya knows dis, but yer not helpin'." And click, click, click back to the laptop.
"Sos Con, I got heah dad's birth certificate an it says he was born ovah dare not heah. Sos I went back and looked up passengah ships from Palermo and I found one dat is definitely him."
"Ya done good sis. But does it say who his fathah and mothah were?"
"Well, because dad's name is a common furst name any a dese people could be his parent."
"Whadda ya mean?"
"Well the last name is Bonanno and accordin ta da record I got heah his fathah is Giuseppe."
"Giuseppe Bonanno? That's great sos look up Giuseppe."
"Doya know how many Giuseppe Bonannos dare are? Quite a few, hundreds, AND dey all had sons named G-O-vonni."
Oh my, a dilemma for sure I thought with a sigh. I was watching the birds on the bird feeder and the Siamese cat sneaking up from the kitchen sink to get a good look at them. It was a matter of time before he popped up and scared those birds shite less, but meanwhile, Connie and Rosa were entertaining me no end.
"Look it should be easy ta track cuz dad came over heah and . . . uh . . ." Rosa looked a little confused and I wanted to ask her what but well, I was trying hard to mind me own business.
"Rosa, dey was all criminals came ovah heah."
"Conniee are you sayin' dad's a criminal?"
"Nah, I'm just sayin', right? Uh oh," Connie said pausing and looking at the laptop, "I hate ta tell ya dis but dose criminals came over heah, well dare criminals ovah dare too! Sos da whole family ovah dare and ovah heah, are all of da criminal persuasion."
And she nodded her head knowingly at her sister.
"Well, it's Sicily ain't it? Okay, sos maybe we need somthin' more ta go on."
Do you think? Maybe a few police records? An FBI report? I was sitting there thinking I should leave, but just as I was about to open me gob the cat popped up and leapt at the window and in a shocking turn of events the birds took off as the cat slid down the window, making a scratchy/squeaky sound, and into the other side of the double sink which was full of water and dirty dishes. As if that wasn't enough, as soon as it felt the water it shrieked and jumped straight up into the air doing a back flip that landed it smack on me coffee cup which I had just placed on the table, and that spilled all over the criminal history, sorry I mean genealogy research the two sisters had been working on, if you can call it that.
BUT and that's a big BUT, neither of them seemed to care. They said something about the cat being crazy while I got up and found some paper towels and mopped up the mess. They didn't lose a beat because as I sat down blotting their papers, Connie said to Rosa, "Ya remembah dat guy whatshisname, da one we thought was a boxah? Well, the boxah is dis guy," and she flips the laptop screen so Rosa can see it, "Gratizano right?"
"Yeah so?"
"Well, hold on," and she clicks the screen and says while doing it, "Sos the Grat-Z-ano we knew and thought was da boxah is really dis guy who turns out to be wanted criminal numbah one." And she spins the laptop around and Rosa gasps.
"OH MY GAWD. And dat guy usta visit us. He was IN OUR HOUSE!"
I almost jumped out of me skin. I caught a look at the split screen, one was the boxer I recognised even from being brought up abroad, but worse I recognised the career criminal hitman as the other, and strange it was I who burst out laughing. I did not mean to, but it was all so ludicrous. They both looked at me. Then as if THAT didn't happen like the cat didn't happen, they went on.
"Rosa, I feel like I should be talkin' in an Italian accent wit all dese Angelos, and Matteos, and Pasquales, and Pietros we got heah," and she giggled.
And I thought to myself, but you ARE talking with Italian accents with a whole lot of little Brooklyn thrown in, you've been talking with Italian accents the entire time I've been here. Come on!
"Sos ya think Uncle Joe was really Joey Bananas?"
"Yeah, an HE WAS IN OUR HOUSE TOO!"
Oh my. I looked at my watch, I should go I thought, but Connie said I should have some lunch with them, thus curtailing my leave-taking because this invitation so stunned me, I had no excuse at the ready to refuse an offer that I kind of knew I couldn't or wouldn't be allowed to refuse.
"Hey you," Rosa said shoving me in the shoulder as she got up, "ya wan sum sushi?"
"Uh, sure," I said confused. Where the hell did the Mafia girls get sushi from? Well, they had it, they laid it out and apologised for not having chopsticks, but the spoons were clean! SPOONS? I was about to experience a new culinary art form -- sushi with spoons!
So then there was a discussion that I should try the HOT WASABI sauce and that was poured on everything whether I wanted to try it or not. Rosa spooned on her piece of sushi and said to me, and I can't believe she said what she said, but she did, she said, "So down da hatch may Luca Brasi CONTINA ta sleep wit da fishes." And she popped her sushi in her mouth like an oyster and then her eyes started to bulge out of her head, big tears making them red, as she croaked she needed water fast and her accommodating sister got right up, found an empty but dirty glass on the counter, swiped it in the dishwater the cat had landed in, and was still filled with dirty dishes, and there Rosa had instant water to wash down the sushi with cat fur and soapsuds WHICH . . . she did! YUP. I was horrified. I can't think of a more appropriate word than that one.
That was enough for me, I had to excuse meself that I needed to use their water closet which they had no clue what a water closet was, but I could use the sink they said, and in a fit of uncontrollable laughter I took meself to the living room and out the door because I could not stay in that environment one second longer!
I be back at the office now. Yes, I am recovered somewhat, no interview and I won't be going back. Nooo I think I'd rather sniff the air fresheners of which I have ten now. My collection is growing with the days as the stink increases from non-bathing practises Mr. Macthornton either refuses to engage in or has never heard of. Whichever the case may be, I am finding I get high now off air freshener products. I should write about that but well, I be sort of zoned.
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
9 comments:
To save on cost we would like paint over the existing laminate kitchen countertops with a concrete paint that is used in garages. We would like to polyeurathene it for a good shine.
i love it! strange life you lead, but hilariously told. keep them coming ROFLMAO
ROFLMAO u iz a nutter! where due u cum up wit dis stuffins?
You know Claire, if the sisters were serial killers this might work with the concrete slabs, polished to a high gloss shine, yes indeed, but they aren't anything more than two confused ladies looking for their roots. So this sort of comment with work your business advert into Gabe's blog is not appreciated. I'll reluctantly let it go this time as an example to anyone else who thinks this practice is ok. Next time Claire Maria, IF there is a next time, ASK me first.
who is Claire Maria, and why is she talking about concrete paint?LMAO
It seems she is someone who works for a kitchen remodelling place and thinks by commenting they can plug their business. As you know, I have adverts on me blog and if she really wanted a nice plug all she had to do, was ask me if I'd run her ad in its own section under the story but . . . nah! I tell ya there be no manners when it comes to Americans! Pushy, money grabbers. Well, not all, but some.
Cappy, who is this Clara Mara or Clarabell who is advertising concrete paint in the comment section of a blog? And, after a story that has nothing to do with concrete, or remodeling your kitchen so it looks like the garage? And why would something you paint on your garage floor be a good thing to paint on your countertops? I am about to gut the galley and start over but now I have the confusing option of concrete paint for the new countertops to more confuse the first mate who said only recently, that the galley looked like our garage, but we don't have a garage!
LOL you are more of an idiot than I am. Gave me a laugh you did and an idea.
I hate to tell you this, but Claire Maria is probably a programme that ticks off key words, like in this case 'countertops' and then adds its sales blurb to your comment section.
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