Italian Building

Sometimes I play backgammon with this building.  He’s a real sore loser.  He starts cursing and
carrying on whenever I start winning.  He’s always asking me if I know who he’s “with”.  He threatens me
and treats me like I’m still a kid.  He tells me to “go get my shinebox,” whatever that means.  If he
pulls through and wins a game he calls me a “disappointed dunsky” — a term I’m not familiar with.
He’ll lean in close and go, “Never rat on your friends and always keep your mouth shut.”
I’ll be like, “About what?” He says, “You might know who we are but we KNOW who you are.”
I say, “I know who you are.” He’s like, “Either you were in on the fix or you were too dumb
to know you were being set up.  Either way you’re out!”  I say, “Were you cheating?”
He’s like, “Janet Rossi in 3R is nothing but a whore!!!” I’m like, “Janet?”  He goes,
“Don’t overcook my steak, if you do it defeats its own purpose.”
He can be very confusing.

2 thoughts on “Italian Building

  1. Back in the days when I used to frequent Mikes Shop in Brooklyn, I was called a “dunsky” on more than one occasion. How was I supposed to learn if I didn’t ask any questions?

    “What are you a fucking dunsky, How could you not now that, that particular engine was an interference engine?” Then he would walk away mumbling what I could only imagine to be italian insults.

    -Good times, always real, never fugazy’

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