From STAND-UP GUY :
So Robert and I started out as collectors. After a while we were called the collectors of the last resort because they would call us when it was the last resort, when they tried everything else. So, we would – now this is violent – knock on their door, bust open their door, come into their house. If the guy was in there we would get him together in front of his whole family and beat the living shit out of him. Cripple them if need be. Beat ‘em with a baseball bat. I only used Louisville Sluggers, they’re the best bats. Don’t kill ‘em. Leave them breathing. That’s what we would do.
I kind of like got invigorated with all this, you know. I couldn’t wait for the next time to go. It was the power, all that power. I was never scared, not even the first time and it was just a job after awhile. We knew they might have weapons but they weren’t going to use them against us because most of these people were fucking idiots. They were pathetic gamblers, people that didn’t have the respect for the money they borrowed. They borrowed money and they gotta pay it back. And they were asked to pay it back many, many, many times. We were the last resort, Robert and I. We beat ‘em up in front of their families. We beat ‘em up in their businesses. No matter where they were we were there. We never left without putting a hand on somebody because that’s what we did. There were other people who went before us who were very negotiable, but not us. We were the last resort like I said, that’s it.
Robert took me on a couple of light cases first to, you know, get me involved, warmed-up. Just maybe a bitch smacking or something, you know. Or push a guy up against a wall type thing. Then it got worse and I got into it and then we started getting all the contracts for that kind of thing. We were fed them. It wasn’t very busy, maybe one or two or three a week. I wanted to do it every day of the week. I wanted to be a gangster, right there and then, I was invigorated. I loved it.
I would have to come back and pick up the money after I gave them the beating. They would get it some way, I never had a problem. A couple of people wanted to turn me in, but you do that then, you know, I’ll be in jail but Joe Blow my friend won’t. He’ll be on the outside and he’ll get you. We only did this for a couple of years though. Robert was married and his wife was giving him pressure about getting a real job so he left. He was a union painter and had two kids. Finally he said I got to give this up my wife’s on my back. Needless to say he came back to it after about a year, after him and his wife split up.
I loved beating people up. In nightclubs, when they fucked-up in my club, I loved beating the shit out of them. At this one place I’d throw them over a fence into a stream behind the club. I loved that, throwing them into a stream half-conscious, after I beat them up. Then they’d know not to fuck-up where I worked. My clubs were clean. No one fucked-up. My clubs were run with an iron fist. You fuck up in my club and the word got out you’d be hospitalized.
No comments:
Post a Comment