Hipster
Holocaust Chapter Sixteen- Slice Of Life
Fat Louie sat
in Nino’s pizzeria with a large Nonna pie in front of him. It was a favorite.
With no tomato sauce. The acidity gave him agita. He liked the plain mozzarella
and ricotta pie. With extra ricotta just the way his Nonna used to make it when
he was growing up on Henry Street. He would come over to stay with his Nonna
while his mother went to work. He loved spending time with his Nonna. It was
his favorite childhood memory.
Not like his
memories of his father. That cocksucker. He wasn’t home all that often. He was
either whoring around or in the can. A low-level enforcer for the Gallo’s his
father was always getting pinched because they would leave him holding the bag.
Never anything more than a lowly wannabee, his father made him ashamed. He didn’t
have the balls to move up. To do a hit and become a made guy. The best he could
do was be the muscle in collecting the vig from the longshoremen that the gang preyed
on in the neighborhood. He only got paid peanuts, and the family lived on his mother's
meager paycheck as a maid for a rich family in the city.
Fat Louie was on his own. He had always been on his own. His father hated him and batted him around until he was big enough to punch back. His mother must of loved him, but she was so exhausted all the time that she couldn’t muster the strength to care what he did. When his Nonna died, he was twelve, and he just didn’t give a shit no more. He made his life out on the streets. He wasn’t popular at Sacred Hearts, his grammar school. All the kids mocked his stained and wrinkled clothes. The nuns didn’t give a shit about him either. By 1968, most of the Cabrini Sisters had left the convent, and the new secular teachers didn’t give two shits. He dropped out in the seventh grade. You would think that the government would have known he was a truant, but he just slipped through the cracks.









