After 4 years in business I've finally made my 1st dollar

By Benny Gorton

When I was a child, I dreamed of having my first business. I worked for my dad's hardware store in Woonsocket from the time I was 10 until I went away to college to study business in Harrisonburg, Va. I graduated at the top of my class and with a little help from my dad, I opened my first café in Media, Pa in 2003. I used my Italian and French heritage to influence my hidden passion, cooking.

The day I opened I bought a frame for my first dollar. I remember the day my dad earned his first dollar and had me put it in a frame. He told me that it was the proudest day of his life since the day I was born. I wanted to accomplish the same thing.

I found a perfect spot for the frame where I would put my first dollar. Right above the bar, where everyone could see it. All the doubters in the local newspaper and all the Mafioso goons that encountered me said I wouldn't make it. Well, they were wrong. The customers were rolling in. In my first year, I cleared $86,000. I managed to get the dinner crowd and then the young professionals after 10. The place was top notch.

After my first year, the only regret was-I still didn't have a dollar in my frame. It just happened that everyone paid with credit and debit cards. I thought, "Well, maybe this year will be the year." I had an even better year in 2004. We added outdoor seating and I made $102,000 for the year. But still, amazingly, no one paid with cash. I thought being right outside of Philly, someone would pay with cash. But no.

I wasn't going to get too down about it. One night though it got the best of me. I ate at the bar and had a few too many scothes. I saw someone leave a $10 tip for one of my waitresses, Tina. The place was pretty full, but something came over me. I just wanted that bill. So, I casually went over to grab it. Tina got there at the same time. I picked up the 10 spot. So did she. She yanked on it and I yanked on it. She said, "Benny, what the heck. That's my Tip!" I yelled, "I want my first dollar. It's for the frame!" The whole place was looking at us by now. We pulled on it and I did the old "tug-hard-and-let-go" trick. Tina went flying backward with the $10 bill in her hand into the wine rack smashing 30 vintage bottles of wine. The glass came crashing down and a piece stuck her right in the breast and chopped off one of her nipples. I never saw so much blood. How was I to know nipples could bleed like that? While the ambulance was on its way, I desperately rummaged through the remnants for the dollar. But the blood looked like wine and wine like blood. The customers were horrified and I was nauseated. I didn't find the bill and I had to close for a few days. I eventually got sued by Tina for $3.5 million.

I figured the only way to capture my dream was to stay re-open. I went to cash only for a while so I could get the dollar for my frame. But no one came in for 4 days, so I changed the sign on the front to "Cash and Credit, but we prefer cash." Apparently, this caught the suspicion of the IRS, so they started snooping through my records. I was in compliance, but the tax attorney I had to hire cost me a couple of grand. He only took cash too, so I had to go to the bank to get some cash. I must say I was tempted to take one of the dollars from the bank roll for my attorney and put it in the frame. But all I could think of was my dad. He earned his first dollar and I didn't. I was failing my dream.

So, I came up with an idea. I would put a March of Dimes jar on the counter and maybe someone would put some cash in. All I got was change. I thought I saw someone put in some green, so I checked to see what was in there, but when I did, I felt a nudge in my calf. I turned around and it was a small child in a wheelchair and the mayor of Media. I guess it was his kid's birthday so they took him to my place. He grabbed my necktie and told me if I pulled something like that again that he'd get his goons from South Philly to chop off my hand.

The closest I came was on October 22nd, 2007 it almost happened. An astute gentleman with a party of 7 came in the place. I knew this was my chance! This crew racked up $327 in charges. When he came up to the counter to pay, I knocked my 16 year old nephew who was working as our cashier out of the way and took over the transaction. I said, "Well, the Credit Card machine is not working." He said, "No problem!". He opened his wallet and I looked down at my nephew with glee. Everything happened in slow-motion. He pulled out a $1,000 bill. I remember screaming. Screaming for mercy…because I didn't have the change for a bill that size. I screamed, "Noooooo!!!!" and blacked out. Next thing I remember is waking up with blood on my hands and being in a cell. I recall it everyday from right here in my room at Tucker Psychiatric ward.

Luckily, I mutilated myself and no one else during the blackout. I hope to be out of here in a couple of months. My restaurant has since closed down and my liquor and business licenses have been revoked.

The funny thing is you can do odd jobs like landscapiong at the psych ward. I laid out some mulch the other day and the director gave me a dollar. I have it up on my wall and when I get out of here I'm going to put it in my frame. My daddy would be proud.

When I was your age (Part II)

When I Was Your Age (Part II)

By Dad

You know when I was your age what I didn’t do? Sweat. You sweat too much. Like a fucking pig. I mean, your shirt is drenched already and we haven’t gotten into the place yet. You ever try deodorant? Huh? I mean it’s embarrassing. You sweating all over the place. The other parents look at me like I am making you do windsprints or something. You know how much I have to spend replacing your shirts because of the armpit stains? You want Daddy to spend his hard earned money so you can perspirate like you’re in an eternal steam room? For Chrissakes, you look like you work in a god damn sweatshop 15 hours a day. If you weren’t Anglo-Saxon you could pass like you’re from Calcutta. I mean it’s 50 degrees outside and you’re sweating bullets. And it stinks too. You have stinky sweat. B.O.! She has B.O.! That’s what the kids used to call people who stunk in high school. You don’t want that do you? I didn’t think so. You know what B.O. stands for? It stands for Body Odor. It’s smelly. You know when Fido does his business and you pinch your nose because it’s stinky. Well, you see what I’m doing? Pinching my nose. Because you smell like Fido’s poo-poo. So, from now on, you have to control your sweat. Daddy doesn’t want you to get made fun of, so he got an early birthday present for his little girl. Here it is. It’s called Secret Roll-on. Now, it’s called Secret so you won’t tell anybody, including mommy about it. Just roll it on your armpits. There you go! Ok, like fresh baby powder. You ready to go inside now? You feel better? Good. Now, when we go into the Chuck E Cheese to celebrate your 7th birthday, what won’t you do? That’s right. Sweat like a fucking pig. Good Girl. Let’s go…

I don't want to drive my new car no more

By Angelo



I went to the dealership to buy a new car. I have a 2005 Volvo station wagon. It had 2,369 miles on it when I went to the Chevy dealership. I am a GM employee, so I figured I could get a good employee discount on a new Camaro. The Volvo had great safety ratings, which was my number one priority. But the pretty, petite cashier at Food Lion told me if I get a Camaro, that she'd go out with me sometime. I haven't been on a date since my co-workers played a prank on me by taking me to the disco and I danced with a BBW, until her boyfriend knocked out my falsetto teeth.

When I pulled in with my Volvo, the salesman put his arm around me and showed me a shiny green Camaro with all the features. Top of the line, he said. When I mentioned the GM discount, he frowned and said that that's not the way to go. He said all the paperwork and red tape would stop me from getting my car that day. He also said his terminally ill wife and his 7 adopted kids needed the commission money to get by for another few weeks before they'd get evicted from the projects. I'm not sure where the Fredericksburg projects are, but I bet it's a tough neighborhood. I played hardball and said I'd do it if he'd throw in a full tank of gas on the house. After an hour in his office, he finally came out and said after some tough negotating with his manager, he could do it. The price of the car with all the added features was $42,500. With my trade in, I got the new Camaro for $39,799. I don't like giving too much info away, so I paid cash in full. He gave me the keys and said it was mine.

After I got the keys, I walked across the dealership parking lot to see if the pretty girl, Missy, was working at Food Lion. She was there. I bought a carton of Kools and asked her if she'd like to go riding in my new Camaro. She said sure, and to pick her up at 8. She wrote her address on the back of an MVP card in felt pen and put a smiley face. I knew I was in for a big night. Maybe too big. Too fast.

I hurried over to drive my new car and when I got in I realized it was a stick shift. I hadn't driven a stick since I drove a donut truck into our base back in Vietnam in 1971. And that wasn't a good experience because there apparently were 20 Viet Cong soldiers behind the donut racks in the back. I think I was setup by the kid an hor earlier who said I could have a free truck loaded with donuts if I gave him my Mama Cass photo.

So, after a half an hour of trying to start the car, I realized you have to push the third pedal in, before turning the key. The manager seemed upset with me because the car wouldn't start and was scaring off customers. But I got the car started and when I put it in gear I rammed into a brand new Corvette in front of me. I saw security running toward me in my rear view mirror, so I jumped out of the car and zig-zagged my way through the parking lot. I got to the dealership entrance and started heaving from running the 30 yards. Luckily, my neighbor drove by and I waved him down and he drove me home.

I called a tow truck from my neighbor's house and asked him to go get the car from the dealership. He asked me why I would want to do that and I didn't have an answer. He got it towed back to my house at 7:00. I gave him $100 for the tow and asked him if he could teach me to drive stick. He said he'd give me a quick lesson for another $50. Being in a bind with a hot date in an hour, I agreed. He showed me a few pointers and said I should be ready to drive the 3 miles to Missy's.

I put on a nice tuxedo I wore on my 7th wedding day. The pants were too snug, so I put on some black sweatpants. Other than that, I looked pretty good. I splashed on some Old Spice and I started the Camaro at 7:40 and was off. I drove past the dealership and saw a policeman writing down some info where I hit the Corvette. I stopped at the red light and he spotted me. He started running toward my car and I panicked and put the car in 5 th and floored it. Unfortunately, it wasn't 5th gear, it was reverse, and I backed into a car behind me, swerved, and drove into a fire hydrant. The water came loose and gushed inside my car when I opened the door to run. The policeman told me to stop and not move. It was hard to do, because my car was filling up with water and rising quickly. I started going under and since I don't know how to swim, the policeman had to rescue me from drowning and give me mouth to mouth to resescitate me.

I guess Missy worked later than expected because she came out of the Food Lion to see what was going on and apparently saw my unconscious with my mangled Camaro on top of the fire hydrant. She laughed at me and called me a loser. She goes out with the tow truck fella now. I have to pay $17,000 for the damage to the Corvette. The Camaro is totalled. I didn't have insurance on the car yet, so I have to foot the bill for the damaged car and junk the Camaro. I also couldn't get my Volvo back. I saw the salesman driving it the other day with his friends.

I have court tomorrow for the hit and run charge. The policeman said that I probably should wear a new suit instead of the tuxedo to court. Since I have no transportation or phone, I will be taking the bus to the mall. Hopefully, I have enough money to get there.