A paid messenger served the Order of Protection on the Sicilian. On the subway one morning I saw an ad for Jacoby and Myers offering seventy-five dollar divorces. When one of the partners died, The New York Times included this in her obituary: “Recognizing that the rich can afford lawyers and that the poor have access to free assistance programs, Jacoby and Meyers focused on serving average people who could often not afford to hire a lawyer at prevailing rates.”
Read MoreI had to get away from my mother. I’d come back from an AA meeting, and she’d ask me if “I’d had fun with my friends?” I’d start in about alcoholism being a fatal, progressive disease, and she’d tell me to set the table. I needed to find a place to live. The linen manufacturer was back from China and wanted me to return to work.
Read MorePhysical exertion had probably saved my life as much as reading and possibly movies. I had always run around as a child but in high school I played soccer and even when I drank and did drugs I rode my bicycle, ran, swam, did modern dance or aerobics. I was addicted to endorphins, even more when I had my first taste of sobriety. The Sicilian was naturally thin, a chain smoker, a picky eater and lazy as fuck. He had no interest in raising his heart rate or sweating. He enjoyed standing around looking pale, thin, and vaguely threatening, usually smoking, dressed in black leather.
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