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That Time I Stole A Quarter-Pound From The Mafia, But Gave It Back Because I Thought They Were Going To Kill My Dad (True Story)

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Get it, Remy the rat?

When you are young, you don’t often factor repercussions into your spontaneous decisions. Well, maybe when YOU were young you did, but I sure as Hell didn’t. I was like one giant id, just focused on meeting my own needs no matter the consequence. This sometimes resulted in me doing stupid things. Stupid things that make for GREAT stories, now, but stupid things, regardless. One such instance was that time my friend and I stole a quarter-pound of marijuana from the local mafia. It really isn’t as gangster as it sounds, though. You see, my friend’s Dad was the one in the mafia, and one day we just walked into the basement, grabbed one of his brown parcel bags, and bolted. My buddy’s rational was: What are they gonna do? Looking back, putting this in print now, I can see how f*cking stupid I was as a kid. Wow. Hindsight really is 20/20.

Police don’t actually use chalk outlines anymore because they contaminate the crime scene, but I still felt the pic set a nice tone.

So every week, on Tuesday, one of my good friend’s Dads would get a three packages at his house, all wrapped in brown paper, like it was a cut of meat from a butcher. My buddy would observe his Dad disappear into the basement and cut into two of the bags, which were always stuffed with marijuana. He would watch his Dad break the bags up into smaller bags for sale, and keep one whole so he could move it as a whole unit. So every Tuesday, after his Dad would pass out, my buddy, who we will call Matt, would sneak into the basement and pinch a tiny bit out of every bag. When you take a tiny bit out of 24 bags, you don’t have a tiny amount. It was brilliant, and his Dad somehow never caught wind of it. Or he did know that Matt did it but just silently rolled his eyes, still not sure. Anyway, to us, the method was foolproof. But anytime something is too easy, even the best of us get bored. Or stupid. And in some cases, both. Which can prove to be very dangerous.

We were idiot kids. This looked like Candyland to us.

So one Tuesday, we are there when the packages are there, but before Dad had gotten home. Matt suggests we take a whole quarter pound (each parcel was a quarter-pound each, which is why he would get four). His rational is that his Dad will have no idea if the package actually arrived or not, so he will not assume it was his son. Did I mention we were stupid? I objected for, maybe, three minutes. That little voice in my head was like “no good can come from this you greedy fuck”, but I pretended that was the voice of Satan and just ignored it. I also took comfort in the fact that Matt’s Dad didn’t even know I hung out with him. We had never met in person, and so I knew there could be NO way this would come back to me. So, we went into the basement, grabbed one of the unopened bags, and bolted. Yeah, really. Just like that.

So we, ofcourse, called a third-party, because we needed a getaway driver. So we called one of our friends to pick us up. We got into the car with a brown grocery bag, and inside the brown grocery bag was the quap, in another brown bag. Suffice it to say, when we pulled it out in his car he was not as delighted as we thought he would be. Quite the opposite, actually. Like any rational, young person, he was not okay with the idea of driving around with a quarter pound of drugs in his car. And truth be told, at this point, maybe forty-five minutes later, the brevity of what we had done and what would potentially happen to us began to sink in. Holy shit, what the fuck were we thinking? The best part of all of this was that we NEVER opened the bag. Never. Not once. We committed to stealing it, and giggling about it for ten minutes, but it was like we KNEW better. Like we knew if any was missing from it, we would be dead. Our driver friend drove us to a field in a town called Cedarville (in Plymouth) and had us drop the quap there temporarily until we figured out our next step. As you can see, the plan was really well thought out on our parts.

I swear, we felt like this exact picture for about five seconds, and then what we did really hit us.

We all decided the best thing to do was to drive by our respective houses. Now, why we did this I will never know, but this is what changed it all for me in a second. You see, Matt lived about five minutes from my house, but My Dad had never met Matt, and his Dad had never met me, so in that sense, we thought we were safe. Until we pulled down my street and saw his Dad’s Cadillac sitting in my driveway, with his Dad at the door to my house, talking to my Dad. I really will never be able to put into words what that felt like. I honestly thought I was going to see this guy lift his arm and shoot my Dad in the face. Now I know, in hindsight, this was only a quarter pound, but there are certain people you DON’T ripoff. Anyone even remotely related to the Mafia are on that list. And neither me or Matt had ANY idea how he even knew I existed or where I lived, but that shook us both to the core. I could also see that my buddy was sweating as profusely as any human ever could. We both knew how badly we had messed up. But what now?

Understand, this was in a time before cell phones (the 90′s were beautiful, man) so I had the driver take me up to the local Tedeschis so I could call my pops. If he answered the phone, he was alive, and that was good enough for me. I called, he answered, I hung up. That was enough for me. I wasn’t risking anything else for this.” Dude, we need to bring this back.” And Matt looked up at me and said: I know, but how? Now we need to SNEAK this back IN??

This is, LITERALLY, the face I made when I saw the Cadillac in my driveway.

Our driver friend told us we could pick up the bag in the field, and he would drop us off about a quarter-mile from our respective houses, and then we could figure out our next step there. It seemed a good a plan as any at this point, and we agreed. Honestly, I expected the bag to be gone when we went back to get it, but it was still there, untouched. Again, to reiterate, we had the balls to STEAL IT, but never to open or pinch from it. Funny, huh? All the stress and NONE of the payoff.  Story of my life.

So next thing you know, we are in the street,  half a mile from either of our houses. Clenched in one hand, Matt has the grocery bag with the quarter pound inside of it. All I wanted to do was go home and hug my Dad, but I knew I was a part of this,too. So we stood there for what felt like hours, (thirty minutes, maybe) and decided the ONLY thing we could do was wait until Mafia Dad falls asleep, and then just put the bag back in the basement, like it was never gone. Man, how Matt and I didn’t take the short bus to school I will never know, but that really was the plan we hatched. Here, let me put the day in simpler terms for all of you:

Steal quarter pound.

Drive around aimlessly.

Never smoke any.

Almost have a stroke from fear.

Sneak weed back in and give it back when no one is looking.

Hope this is all kosher.

The whole day, it just felt like we were sitting in one of these, waiting for it to snap shut on us.

And you wanna know the most messed up part? It worked. Not in the sense that his Dad didn’t hate him for a week and wasn’t aware that it happened, but in the sense that no one was murdered or maimed. When I went home, my Dad was basically like ” What he Hell did you do, cuz some strange men were looking for you tonight?” and I told him my friend Matt stole 20 bucks from his Dad. Wow, way to REALLY undersell it, huh? My Dad looked at my like “Yeah, okay” and went up stairs to bed, shaking his head. I remember hearing his snoring through the floor that night, and it never sounded more lovely to me than it did the night I thought my stupidity almost got him killed.

Truth is, I never did tell him why those guys came looking for me that night. Well, actually, I guess I just did.

Sorry, Dad. I know I was a pain in the ass at times.

The post That Time I Stole A Quarter-Pound From The Mafia, But Gave It Back Because I Thought They Were Going To Kill My Dad (True Story) appeared first on Remy Carreiro.


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