Sally pushed his way through the Bleecker Street foot traffic. It was hot and he was sweating under his wig. A chubby kid in a Megadeth T-shirt, wrangling over the price of a studded wristband with a Pakistani merchant in the middle of the sidewalk, blocked his way. Sally stomped on the kid's foot with his heel, and the kid moved off, yelping like an injured dog. He found Danny Testa sitting at a small cafe table at a souvlaki place near Thompson Street. Danny was reading the sports pages of the Daily News and sipping an iced cappuccino. Sally sat down across from him.
"Sally, how are you?" asked Danny, looking up from his paper.
"I'm good, Danny. How are you?"
"You know, same old same old," said Danny.
"Did you talk to him?"
"Yeah," said Danny. "I was just over there."
"So?" asked Sally, expectantly.
"He's grateful. He's happy." He pushed a folded copy of New York magazine across the table. There was an envelope tucked inside the pages. "There's somethin' for you in there. And somethin' extra for your nephew. I heard from Skin."
"For Tommy?" asked Sally, startled for a second. He picked up the magazine and put it inside his jacket.
"Yeah. He should get somethin', don't you think? Fair's fair, he likes the kid. He made a point to mention it," said Danny.
"So what did he say about me?" asked Sally. "Am I gonna get a button?"
"He say wait a little longer," said Danny. "It's not a good time right now. He says he opens the books right now and people are gonna be all over him. There's a whole fuckin' line of guys waitin'. Everybody and his fuckin' brother is bustin' balls. He says he straightens you out, he's gotta straighten out all these other guys. You should wait."
"I been waiting," said Sally. "I been waitin' a long fuckin' time here. This is the third time. This is the third time I done something for him. He calls me and has me come in and asks for somethin' to happen and it happens. And then what? Nothing. Time goes by, other guys go sailin' right past me. Why doesn't the guy like me? How come I'm always the guy left standin' out there with his cock in his hand?"
"You got him all wrong," said Danny. "He likes you. He talks about you all the fuckin' time. He likes you."
"Tommy, who's never done a fuckin' thing for him until now, he likes him," complained Sally.
"You have to be patient, Sal. Your time will come. He's very grateful. He won't forget."
"My time will come. My time will come. When? That's what I wanna know. When is my time gonna come?"
"Soon, soon," said Danny.
"The man doesn't like me. I know that," said Sally.
"That's not true. Maybe you come down to the place more often, say hello to everybody. You walk by the place the other day, you don't even stop in to pay your respects. He said he was hurt."
"I hate goin' down to that fuckin' place. Those old men down there always breakin' my balls, yellin' 'Wig' this and 'Wig' that."
"They're just havin' a little fun, Sally. You shouldn't take it personal like that."
"I do. I do take it personal. There's people over there, they owe me money. How do I collect, people see a buncha old men callin' me names in the street? It's embarrassing."
"They don't mean nothin'."
"They gotta call me that? My hair look funny to you?"
A chuckle escaped from Danny's lips. "No, no. It looks real good, Sally. Can you swim in it?"
"Yeah, I can fuckin' swim in it. Son of a bitch. This is not cheap. That's genuine human hair there," said Sally.
"Don't get mad. Don't get mad. Look, I'm your best friend over there. Believe me. I'll mention it to the man you're unhappy. Just hang in there. You did well for yourself on this. Be happy."