Post by Tony Baravelli on Jul 3, 2009 23:51:35 GMT
It was a warm day, with the added humidity it was down right hot outside. The heat wasn't that much of a problem for Tony Baravelli though, the young Italian was soaked to the bone. The wet clothes where just part of the job, an iceman who worked on a hot day dealt with melting ice.
Signor Baravelli had only been working in St. Louis for two months but already he had a reputation. It wasn't the best of reputation either. He had managed to rack up ten dollars worth of debt in that short amount of time. He was going to get paid today though, he would be able to pay that off. His only hope was that he would have money left over from his pay check.
Like most boys from Italy he had come to America not to find a home but to get away from the conditions in his native land. He was enjoying living in America, it was so very different from where he had come from, but there where times when he missed his family. The home sickness came in cycles and depended on a few different factors. Normally he was able to forget about his home rather well, but today was his youngest sister, Eva's, birthday. He couldn't help but feel bad about not being there, out of all his siblings he had been most attached to Eva. He figured if he had some money left he would pick her up a present and send it to her.
Working as an iceman didn't get him a lot of money, he got about a dollar fifty a day, and that was a good wage. That meant about ten dollars and fifty cents a week. He worked seven days a week from early in the morning until the evening. Had he not been making such a good amount he would have found another easier job. Being the iceman wasn't the only place he got his income from though. Aside from a wide variety of card games and betting at the race track, Baravelli occasionally managed to sell liquor from the back of his cart. The only thing that stopped him from having a large cash flow from that side job was the fact that his route kept changing.
Noting that he was near the end of his route Tony halted his cart in front of the Talon Cafe. He was unsure how much ice the cafe needed. Rather than carry a dripping block inside and make a mess the Italian decided he would ask before lifting a finger. That would also give him a chance to scope out the place and it's patrons. If he was lucky there would be a few who wanted to buy a drink off him.
Before he left his cart the black haired man gave a look about him. He wasn't interested in leaving his cart unattended, particularly if there where police about. There was a slight chance someone might have a look to make sure ice was all he sold. Not noticing anyone looking at him he took a quick glance at his cart to make sure all his goods where in no danger of getting damaged before he entered the cafe.
Signor Baravelli had only been working in St. Louis for two months but already he had a reputation. It wasn't the best of reputation either. He had managed to rack up ten dollars worth of debt in that short amount of time. He was going to get paid today though, he would be able to pay that off. His only hope was that he would have money left over from his pay check.
Like most boys from Italy he had come to America not to find a home but to get away from the conditions in his native land. He was enjoying living in America, it was so very different from where he had come from, but there where times when he missed his family. The home sickness came in cycles and depended on a few different factors. Normally he was able to forget about his home rather well, but today was his youngest sister, Eva's, birthday. He couldn't help but feel bad about not being there, out of all his siblings he had been most attached to Eva. He figured if he had some money left he would pick her up a present and send it to her.
Working as an iceman didn't get him a lot of money, he got about a dollar fifty a day, and that was a good wage. That meant about ten dollars and fifty cents a week. He worked seven days a week from early in the morning until the evening. Had he not been making such a good amount he would have found another easier job. Being the iceman wasn't the only place he got his income from though. Aside from a wide variety of card games and betting at the race track, Baravelli occasionally managed to sell liquor from the back of his cart. The only thing that stopped him from having a large cash flow from that side job was the fact that his route kept changing.
Noting that he was near the end of his route Tony halted his cart in front of the Talon Cafe. He was unsure how much ice the cafe needed. Rather than carry a dripping block inside and make a mess the Italian decided he would ask before lifting a finger. That would also give him a chance to scope out the place and it's patrons. If he was lucky there would be a few who wanted to buy a drink off him.
Before he left his cart the black haired man gave a look about him. He wasn't interested in leaving his cart unattended, particularly if there where police about. There was a slight chance someone might have a look to make sure ice was all he sold. Not noticing anyone looking at him he took a quick glance at his cart to make sure all his goods where in no danger of getting damaged before he entered the cafe.