Tunnel Bar regular Margie’s boyfriend — Hoboken Frank (not to be confused with Biggie’s nephew, Frankie from Hoboken) — had an interesting tale about some guy he met when locked up over in NYC. Seems that the gent had committed a crime for which there is no common name; he’d married five women (Pentagamy?)
The “wives” all lived in the same Manhattan neighborhood. The scheme finally unraveled when the flock kept bumping into each other in the supermarket while selecting hubbie’s favorite fare.
The way the guy would hook the well-heeled and not gullible gals was this: he’d go to a posh spot early in the day and ask to speak with the maitre d’.
“Here, this is for you,” handing the restaurant employee a hundred dollar bill. (This would have been in the ’60s and so the cash would be worth much more now.)
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing. That’s a gift. But I can tell you a way to make another hundred.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m coming here tonight with a chick I’m trying to impress. Don’t worry. I’m gonna pay the bill and all. I just want you to stop by the table and talk with me like I’m one of the owners.”
That evening the maitre d’ profusely apologized for the interruption but needed to mention that they were having all sorts of problems with the decorators and just wanted him to know.
