The Day I Thought I Saw the Mafia

I was sitting at the red light the other day and peaked in my rearview mirror. Behind me were two guys in a gold truck - you know those squatty, kinda ugly ones? Yeah, one of those. The driver was bald with an Eastern European facial structure and a look like he was in the Russian mafia. His buddy in the passenger seat was also bald (Completely off topic, have you ever noticed bald guys tend to have lots of bald friends?), Hispanic, and his expression just screamed Mexican mafia. Now, I know this is profiling but then I started dreaming up this story in my head... It was either a Tuesday or a Thursday - both days seemed a bit pointless to her - and Sophie was driving across town. The sun was shining, temperature was absolutely perfect, and spring was most definitely in the air. The light ahead turned red and the car eased to a stop. Humming along to some new song on the radio, Sophie glanced around. The best part about living in a city known for being 'weird' is all the strange people who are very proud about being so strange . The thought dashed through her head, not for the first time since moving here. Oh! That puppy is SO cute! Ummm...that is an interesting dance move. Odd...those bald guys behind me seem an bit off - I mean, that is the normal around here but they are...Oh, the light is green again. Speeding through the now green light just to be stuck at the next one, Sophie peaked through her rearview mirror again. Huh, those guys could be in the Mafia. Oh, just imagine, the driver is from the Russian Mafia and the passenger from the Mexican Mafia and they are here to meet with the leader of the Mafia in central Texas. HA! That would be so funny. And that vehicle - an ugly, squatty gold truck? I thought the Mafia only drove black SUVs that look sketchy. Whatever, there's no Mafia in Texas. With one last glance at the men behind her, the light turned green, Sophie went straight, and the men got on the interstate. Inside the gold truck, now speeding down the interstate, Sophie was more right than she would ever know. Ivan was a delegate from the Russian Mafia and Ralph was a delegate from the Mexican Mafia and they were in town to meet with the heads of organized crime in Texas. The two had met several years back, became friends over a couple bottles of vodka and tequila, and kept in touch. "How many Ivans do you know?" Ralph posed the question to Ivan. "That is the most Russian name ever." "Da," spit Ivan. "I know. Mother was furious that she got pregnant with me so she named me Ivan so she could call me 'Ivan the Terrible.' She says, I have never stopped living up to my name. Anyway, what room do you have to talk 'Raphael'?" "Madre was an artist. It was Raphael or Michelangelo but Abuela said 'Do not name that boy after an angel. He will follow in his father's footsteps and become a fallen angel.' So Raphael it was." Silence followed for a few moments until Ralph pulled a rosary out and draped it over the rearview mirror. "What do you think you are doing?" Ivan's face went stone hard, his calm voice cut like the knives strapped to his calf. "Get that off my mirror. Do not alter my car while I am driving. I will kill you with my bare hands if you make me wreck." "Calm down. The angels are watching over us and this is just a reminder to pray. We won't wreck." Ralph's face was blank but the glint in his eye as he turned toward the window revealed he knew the buttons he was pushing. "I. Am. Calm," Ivan gritted under his teeth before barking, "Get the GPS going!" "You have 18 more miles till we turn off the interstate amigo. Then it is dirt roads until we get to the barn." "This piece of junk you rented had better get us there. This is the last time someone else picks the rental car. What was wrong with a black SUV? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Sturdy, reliable, inconspicuous..." "Inconspicuous? You sure are throwing around big words, Ivan." "I was helping my niece study for a test before we left," the glare shooting across the car would have frozen Ralph in place if Ivan had decided to bring the new tech along for the trip. "And stop interrupting me. Don't make me kill you. I will." "Sure you will buddy." "Buddy? Buddy? WHO ARE YOU CALLING BUDDY? ARE YOU CALLING ME A LIAR? DO NOT TEST ME BOY!" Ralph's laugh and Ivan's grunts echoed through the car as they flew down the interstate, their gold truck getting many double takes as they left the city and headed toward the hill country. I hope you enjoyed my musings. Let me know what you thought below. Chat with y'all soon!

writing – Loving Life with Lyss

I was sitting at the red light the other day and peaked in my rearview mirror. Behind me were two guys in a gold truck - you know those squatty, kinda ugly ones? Yeah, one of those. The driver was bald with an Eastern European facial structure and a look like he was in the Russian mafia. His buddy in…