Alicia and Trump get solicited to work for Jeffrey Epstein CHAPTER SIX
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The Drive almost instantly became a death trap. Twenty- one motorists drowned underneath the Gracie Mansion Carl Schurz Park Overpass. Further Uptown where Pleasant Avenue is found there were numerous collisions including twenty-five-car pileup. People simply abandoned their cars, as the emergency advisory ordered over all radio stations all motorists do on the HPL. This may have been a reckless order and in fact there were fatalities. Deputy Mayor Luchtinkupf was at his command post in his living room in Indianapolis, where he lived, and he made a delayed decision to declare an emergency. The mayor, who was away on a customary weekend was unreachable, except possibly by Jeffrey Epstein who has five telephone numbers for the mayor in his address book.
I invest in people -- be it politics or science. It's what I do - Jeffrey Epstein
They say it was a once in a century Christmas blizzard that hit New York with a ferocity you wouldn't even expect in Buffalo. The worst in recorded history. I'm no meteorologist but they say there was a very intense high pressure system coming down from Siberia by way of Canada which came down over the Arctic Sea all pretty fast. Or something like that This sub-zero air collided with moist warm air coming off what the weather girl said was a weird twist in the Gulf Stream. Now it's not that the Weather Service didn't forecast this- they did- but there had been a number of false alarms about blizzards and hurricanes coming out of the National Weather Service and some folks went about their merry way even though the governor asked people to stay off the roads. Well New Yorkers were just not believing it. They didn't hear from the mayor. If this wasn't some political CYA crap wouldn't our mayor say something about it? So John and Jane Q Public just were not having any of it.
Now the Greek was prepared. For one thing the Greek is always prepared. For another thing, although he is Greek Orthodox and pretty observantly so he subscribes to the old saw that says "when in Rome do as the Romans do." so his kids were pretty lucky when they were growing up. They had two Christmases. Oh I didn't tell you: the Greek has a fly on the wall.
Pleasant Avenue is one of those places in New York that a lot of natives don't even know about but it has a history. I'll tell you about that some other time.
The Greek had put in orders and made sure he got plenty of coffee and milk because he anticipated people might be marooned in his diner. He has no liquor license and he doesn't really play games with the government but he was pretty sure if he had some alcoholic refreshments on hand for what could turn out to be a nightlong siege nobody would complain.
Now you're going to say I'm full of crap here but there were some guests who we know who probably had never been on Pleasant Avenue in their lives.
Pleasant Avenue runs roughly parallel to the Huey Pierce Long Drive, which if you are not a Democrat you might call the East River Drive. So when the blizzard hit with unprecedented ferocity and dumped more than five inches of snow in its first hour with the East River absolutely flooding the HPL Drive in a perfect storm of high tide, wind gusts over 100 miles per hour.
The Drive almost instantly became a death trap. Twenty- one motorists drowned underneath the Gracie Mansion Carl Schurz Park Overpass. Further Uptown where Pleasant Avenue is found there were numerous collisions including twenty-five-car pileup. People simply abandoned their cars, as the emergency advisory ordered over all radio stations all motorists do on the HPL. This may have been a reckless order and in fact there were fatalities. Deputy Mayor Luchtinkupf was at his command post in his living room in Indianapolis, where he lived, and he made a delayed decision to declare an emergency. The mayor, who was away on a customary weekend was unreachable, except possibly by Jeffrey Epstein who has five telephone numbers for the mayor in his address book.
So, motorists abandoned their cars and sought the nearest shelter. One of the places they went to was the Greek's Diner.
Trump had been chauffeuring Peter and Paul around East Harlem on errands (three of Peter's staff had their own apartments in the neighborhood, and Peter liked to drop in on them) when the winds started blowing so hard that Trump was afraid he was going to lose control of the taxi. Peter and Paul agreed that they needed to find safe harbor pronto. That safe harbor was the Greek's Diner.
Jeffrey Epstein and his trusted female assistant had bailed out of their Uber Lux on the HPL headed north to his private estate in the Berkshire Mountains in Massachusetts. They walked the pedestrian bridge at 120th Street and found the Greek's diner.
Epstein's assistant was quite impressed with Alicia, in spite of her being a little bit on the senior citizen side. After all weren't cougars and milfs a thing with some men?
Peter also was impressed. Epstein's assistant followed Alicia into the lady's room and struck up a conversation. The gist of her spiel was that Alicia couldn't be making much money working in the diner. She told Alicia that she was a talent scout, a recruiter for a modeling agency. She asked Alicia if she ever considered modeling or capitalizing in some way on her good looks. Alicia told her that she makes enough money. Her rent is very low, that she lives in the projects right near the diner and she is able to pick her son up from school, give him a good snack and leave him off with her best friend who lives on the same floor and that she likes being a good mom. The assistant then pitched for her to be her assistant in that she could be recruiting attractive young women who were looking for a way out of the projects and she gave Alicia her card.
Alicia gave Donald and his two friends a warm hello and gave Ronald a peck on his forehead. Peter looked at Paul, Paul looked at Peter you know with arching eyebrows and slight knowing nods.
Two strangers came in, having climbed a mountain of snow, shivering and wet. One was dressed like Santa Claus but he was thin and his beard wasn't fake. He had a bag of goodies slung over his right shoulder. The other one had a patch over his left eye. They sat themselves down at the counter. The guy with the eye patch had a handsome face but that isn't why Alicia was staring at him. There was something about him. It couldn't be Louie. Maybe it's Louie's ghost? He seemed to deliberately not stare at her, a gentlemanly gesture for sure, but he averted his head when she approached him to take his order, which almost appeared to her to be downright unfriendly.
The snow piled up, the wind was howling and you could see through the diner's picture window that the street was totally devoid of life. Nightfall came and the Greek announced that all were welcome to stay the night, that he had beer, wine and plum brandy. The stranger stood up and started singing "Deck The Halls With Boughs Of Holly" and just about everyone joined in. Next they all sang "Auld Lang Syne". Epstein got up after that clapping and leading a round of applause for The Stranger. Then he launched into "Glory To The Newborn King." which everyone joined in on.
The Diner had been decorated for Christmas two days before Civic Day. The whole scene warmed the cockles of everyone's heart. And then, as the day was dawning and the wind was dying down the power went out. It's amazing how quickly the hungry, the have-nots and the opportunists rallied under the leadership of the 116th Street crew, who had commandeered a snow plow and demolished a wall of the local Ghetto Town Supermarket. It might surprise you to know that Peter and Paul are great believers in the free market. Along with Orange Julius they trudged towards the demolished store waving two pistols in the air (Peter doesn't carry a weapon) shouting at the mob that was swirling in out and around the Ghetto Town Market to stop what they were doing and go get themselves jobs. Paul was about to open fire when Peter stopped him. Orange Julius kept trudging and joined the festivities inside the supermarket. Epstein, his assistant, the Greek and the stranger went outside to watch. The episode burned itself out before sundown.
BELIEVE HALF OF WHAT YOU SEE AND NONE OF WHAT YOU HEAR
From Donald Trump's opus: There was something very familiar about that guy, that stranger who showed up with a skinny Santa Claus and spent the night with all of us in the Greek's diner. The guy looked like Louie but he didn't look like Louie. Then it hit me like an avalanche. Just how the fuck do I know that Louie's dead? I don't know anything about that. Just because some voice on the telephone told me that it happened and just because I got a twenty-page suicide note in the mail that arrived about three years too late; does that really mean shit to a tree? Short answer is no, not really. A dollar to a doughnut that nine hundred and twenty something thousand dollars isn't buried in any goddamn Prospect Park or Coney Island either. I'll bet Albanian Louie got his teeth straightened or maybe replaced, got his broken nose fixed and maybe he got some work done on his chin and eyebrows.
I followed him into the men's room and stood at the urinal next to his. "You're Albanian Louie, ain't you" I said to him. He put his finger to his lips and said "sh, later. The walls have ears" which I found out later was the truth. In fact, in a little while Burge would know the whole story. Louie and Mickey Cezar bade us all farewell and caught a taxi to who knows where.
That night I got two telephone calls. The first one was from Louie, who said he was on a pay phone and only had two nickels. He apologized for tricking me into thinking he was dead but he said he had to do it. He said he's calling from out of state and as soon he's gonna be out of the country, that Cezar and him were going far away but that he had wanted to say goodbye to me and Alicia and to see us one last time. He told me that by way of thanking me and Alicia for being his friends he had buried a hundred thousand dollars and that Alicia musta got a letter telling us where it was. He said he trusted her to share it with me and that he didn't want to say any more because the walls have ears.
The next phone call was from Burge. He told me that he knew the whole shit, that he had drones tagging everybody except Louie and Cezar. He said that he was on a new case anyhow, working strictly for himself and if I give him just half of my half of the hundred thousand and work with him we would be cool. It was starting to look like they all lived happily ever aftersville more or less
considering that Louie got away with it in the end. Burge said he retired from Technicon as of yesterday and that he had recommended closing out the case in his final report. Louie is dead and the money isn't recoverable. Since none of the suits that have been humiliated by Albanian Louie and his friends were even around anymore it was a safe bet that they were going to quietly close the case rather than replace him and keep chasing their own tail. They hadn't asked him to break in a replacement and his intern got hired into Competition Research, a different department.
