Keenan explains his first encounter with a closeted "mob boss."
Let me explain how me and "Eddie, the Barracuda," met some 20 years ago.
I took off from work down in Virginia Beach as I worked for the city's utility company as a mechanic, looking to attend Jason's, my best friend and battle buddy from the Army days, wedding to Gina, this gorgeous chick that hailed from Connecticut.
"We doing it in Brooklyn, for that's where both her parents work and live now," he told me, when they were planning things out, so that's where the wedding party assembled first.
A couple days before everyone came into New York, I hopped the Amtrak for the seven hour trek out of Norfolk, towing a suitcase and a garment bag, enjoying the views of the landscape en route to Grand Central Station, where Jason and I's friends waited for my arrival.
"We gotta make sure you're partied out before you and Gina get hitched," said Tommy, one of our good, mutual friends, explaining we needed to go "all out" one more time.
Jason, a Puerto Rican who was originally from Florida, had us venturing through the city with the help of a private driver, as him, me, Tommy, Nate and Rico, two other Army buddies of ours, were riding around getting a tour, until Jason was reminded via text that Gina's pops wanted us to meet him and his comrades at a bar.
"Yo driver, can you take us to Brooklyn," Jason yelled out. "Before we party, we gotta link with Eddie."
"Eddie? Who the hell is that," I asked.
"That's Gina's pops. He wants to see the type of company his daughter keeps," Tommy said.
An hour later we were in Bensonhurst, as the driver, an obvious native, bobbed and weaved through the traffic to get us to Jerzey Joe's, this bar that was crawling with proud Italian men in their late 40s to early 70s. The five of us were a mixed group: Jason being Latin, me and Tommy black, Rico being Asian, and Nate being white, as we walked through and sought seating, looking like the Rainbow Coalition as everyone else was clearly Italian.
We caught all the stairs, and things got quiet when we came through the door, as suddenly the air was thick in the room, as I never felt so uncomfortable.
"Hey George, they're with me. Can we have them sit at the bar," yelled this short, somewhat husky guy, with bouncy hair, and a smooth, shaven face.
It would be Eddie, Gina's father, and a stout businessman that commanded the attention of George, the owner, and one third of the bartending staff. Eddie appeared to be returning to the bar from the restroom, wiping his hands with a towel as he came from the rear of the establishment to introduce himself.
"Jason, son in law, we meet again," he said to him, as the two of them hugged.
Jason's half hearted smile was felt through our group, as we saw his facial expression over Eddie's shoulder. Eddie, with his five other "henchmen," looked to us next, smiling and shaking our hands with his firm grip, before snapping his fingers and making five seats automatically become available at the bar, as five guys got up "on cue" it seemed.
"Kids, please sit," Eddie told us.
Eddie let the bartender know whatever we wanted, we could have until the bar closed. Jason took advantage, as did Tommy, while me and the other Army buddies were a little cautious, all of us sensing the possibility of Eddie and his crew trying to shake us down. It turned out cool however, as Eddie had his stable of questions he drilled Jason with, then after learning I was the best man, shifted his attention on me.
"Kid already has my blessing, but I wanna see what kinda men Jason rolls with," he said, making eye contact with me and winking, before turning his stool in my direction. "Hey, I need your undivided attention."
Jason and the other guys had already left, as Eddie requested I stay behind. I ended up changing my mind on drinking and was sipping a Grey Goose and orange juice when I cut my eye at Eddie, caring less of the company in his presence and where I was, and trying to figure who the fuck he was talking to.
"Little boy with fire, I get it, but men, when they speak with each other in each other's presence, they face each other, toes pointed at each other as a sign of respect. You know, didn't you spend some time in that war in the Middle East? Isn't that a thing in their culture?"
Eddie's arrogance rubbed me wrong and he knew it.
"Where you from, kid," he asked.
"Virginia."
