Thread by @MucciFlipFlop, Ok, since I haven’t told it yet(I thought I had), I’ll tell [...]

Ok, since I haven’t told it yet(I thought I had), I’ll tell the story of when I dated a mob underboss’s granddaughter.

For fucking OBVIOUS reasons, I will only refer to her as M in this story.

M transferred to my high school as a senior when I was a junior. She was in my biology class and sat in the seat directly in front of me. We were then assigned as lab partners.

She was fine as hell, too, so I was super excited to be her lab partner. You know, typical Italian high school girl: tanned skin, black hair, brown eyes.

Weeks of school and lab assignments went by without anything significant to report. I tried to make her laugh and sometimes she did, normal stuff.

Her last name is the Anglicized form of an Italian name I had heard of before. One day I had asked her if she was Italian, why was that her last name?

She told me that her grandfather wasn’t “the best guy”, but wanted his family to change their last names so they could deny being close with him. She said he had always told her “if they think we’re so close, why would you have changed your name?”

As a man whose grandfather ALSO did bad stuff, I understood the logic more than most people would.

M and I get to talking more during class, and we gradually do worse and worse in the class. I eventually got the nerve to ask her out, which seemed like the biggest prayer ever.

Somehow, someway, she agreed. Wow. So we agreed to dinner and a movie, I’d pick her up.

Saturday night comes around, and I am PUMPED. Let me reiterate that this girl was completely out of my league, ESPECIALLY then.

I pull up to her house. Nothing crazy, pretty modest one story house. I noticed the cornicello(Italian horn to warn off the evil eye) on their door and figured I was in a very safe place.

She answers the door, and inside I’m greeted by like 8 or 9 people. A few guys in wife beaters, some in jeans but others in track pants. Her mom is there, and so is her dad. Again, this doesn’t feel weird, because of my family’s past, so I feel welcome.

There’s a Frank and a Frankie or two. Two Carmens, just like my family. Her mom is a lovely woman and keeps talking about how nice it is that M has an Italian boy over.

I see her dad. He looks familiar, but not in a “I know this guy” way, but like a “my whole family knows this guy” kind of way. He asks me how I am, and why I’m interested in his daughter. I tell him because she’s gorgeous(always compliment the family genes first).

And I tell him that she’s a really nice girl. He then tells me, and I’ll never forget this, “You come from a good family, you know that?”

WAIT

No one in this part of town knows my family, we had just moved there a few years ago and didn’t know many people.

So I ask him who he knows of my family, and he starts rattling off names that are clue after clue after clue.

He tells me his father and my grandfather worked together. He says he’s worked with my uncle and a few of my great uncles.

This is the part where I tell you that my grandfather was in the mob.

My uncle was in the mob. My great uncles were in the mob. He could not have worked with them unless he was in the mob.

And then the last name makes sense.

I asked him, “Is your father _____ _____?”

He smiled and said “I think we both know the answer to that question”, which, let me point out, is not a positive or negative response to a question.

So yes, yes is actually the answer. His father, M’s grandfather, was _____ ______, an underboss’s for the…Shmamshbino family.

So, I guess M didn’t tell me that we were having dinner at her house, but now that we both know that our families know each other, it’s all gravy at this point.

Dinner was nothing new to me, her mother had made pasta with meatballs, sausage, and there was some pizza to snack on for a bit too.

I don’t remember what movie we saw, but this part doesn’t matter anymore. M and I had a good night out, but it’s time to drop her off.

I pull into her driveway, she kisses me and tells me that her dad wanted to see me before I left. So I walk inside with her. Her dad comes to the door and asks me if there were any problems.

I tell him there weren’t, but I shyly admitted that “I might not drive as fast as other people, so that’s why it took a little longer getting back”. He laughs. Looking back, he probably saw me as some little innocent boy, when he meant PROBLEMS.

He told me again that I had a good family, that (mom’s last name) were good people, he liked good people. He told me that he hoped to see me around more often.

M and I continued to date the remainder of my junior year. We’d go out, and I don’t know how to describe this feeling, but

You know when you’re in your neighborhood and you’re safe? Like, not just safe, but safe? That’s what it felt like going out with M.

I felt like the king of the city with her, but also because of her.

We broke up in August, right before she was supposed to leave for college. It was an amicable breakup. Her father died in 2010, and her brother called me and invited me to the funeral.

I went to the funeral out of what felt like obligation. It was a very nice service. I hadn’t seen M in almost three years at that point and MY GOD was she gorgeous.

I gave the family my condolences, and haven’t seen or heard from them since.

This thread is probably a lot more boring than you thought it would be. I’m sorry, I’m a boring guy.

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