Better Off Dead
by
John Paul Carinci
Dedication
To all the great storytellers of the past, who have inspired us to dream big, fantasize much, press on, and share our stories with the world.
To my wife, Vera, my ongoing inspiration.
And to my Mother, who first instilled the confidence in me that I can be great.
Chapter One
"Hi, this is Frank Granstino from the Financial Life
Insurance Company, how are you today?"
"Okay," the woman said hesitantly.
"Well, that's good! The reason I'm calling," I said with
a smile, "is, I'm helping all the homeowners in your
neighborhood with their life insurance needs. I'll be in your
area Tuesday and Thursday. Which night would be better for me
to drop by and introduce myself?"
"Neither! Why don't you get a real job, and stop
bothering people!" she screamed as she slammed the phone
down.
I proceeded to cross her name off my list so hard that
the pen ripped the page. All in a day's work, I thought, as I
closed my prospecting list.
Earlier, another woman - she must've been elderly - blew
a whistle into the phone. She blew it so loud that I had to
switch ears on the next call. Maybe she thought I was a
pervert or a weirdo. But that's the trouble with the phone
book, you never can tell who you're going to reach.
Prospecting for new sales is tough. So far, my first six
months in the business has been murder.
The district manager, Tom Somi, reminds me: "Hey sport,
you're only twenty-seven years old. Give the business a
chance."
"Enough of this!" I said, "I already have an earache!" As
I packed my briefcase, with calls still to be made. After I
take a break for lunch, I'll drop in on some businesses in
the area and leave my cards.
The district office was pretty quiet for a Monday,
especially for a bright and sunny April day. As the experts
say, "You're in business for yourself, your time is your
own."
Now our manager, Tom Somi, is a tough man who screams a
lot. Tom only wants to know, each week, total premiums and
how many policies were sold by each of the forty sales
representatives. He's a bottom-line type of guy, that no one
wants to go up against.
Just this morning at our district meeting, Tom fired an
agent. George Flayer had been with the company for two years.
His first year was good, but his last six months were
terrible. No sales, coupled with cancellations brought him
down.
Of course Somi capitalized on the firing. He made George
come in for the district meeting. Then right after our
meeting he fires him, making George clean his desk out in
front of everyone. Tom really is pond scum.
"Somi, that 'potato head', let me go!"
That's all George could say to me as he packed up his
files.
With my legs up on my desk, leaning back in the chair, I
realized that this business can be brutal.
Insurance sales is difficult because we're selling a
piece of paper. The one thing that keeps me in this business
is that I truly believe in what I'm selling.
I reminisced about my last job, working for a major bank
in Manhattan, as a general accounting clerk. All I had to do
was show up, sit at my desk till five, with no real work, no
challenge. Slowly, I was getting melt-down of the brain.
After I left my dead-end job, I vowed to be productive
somewhere. When I started selling insurance a little over six
months ago, it was very difficult. Since I have few
relatives, and only a couple of close friends, I was very
reluctant to try to sell any of them life insurance - at
least in the beginning.
I wasn't like most agents, who rely totally on friends
and relatives. And after a few months fail out of the
business. I relied solely on strangers and referrals. That's
why I didn't start off with a bang and was just barely able
to pay my bills each month.
I drive a 1972 Buick Century and live in a modest 2 room
apartment in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. At 27 I was still able to
chase away any thoughts of marriage.
As my phone rang, it startled me back to reality. I've
always been somewhat of a dreamer.
"Hello, Frank Granstino here."
"Frankie, it's me, how're doing? I caught a couple of
minutes before lunch."
"Pauly, how are you, you got my message a couple of
nights ago?"
"Yeah, I didn't get a chance to call. So what did you
think about the Knicks game last night?"
"Aw, they stink! Do you believe they blew a twelve
point lead? Sometimes that Starks really does stink."
"I know, he gets carried away trying to make those three-
point shots. Maybe they'll win tonight. Toronto hasn't been
winning lately. Frankie, I'll catch you later, over the
weekend. Let's get together. Gotta run!
"Okay Paul, I'll catch the game tonight on re-run. Later,
bro!" I said, as I hung up.
Paul was my best and oldest friend; we went back almost
twenty years. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for Paul,
or he wouldn't do for me. For the longest time we lived only
two blocks from each other, so we saw each other every day.
Even our parents became friends. We were so close-knit they
had no choice.
"Time to get moving," I said, as I packed up some forms,
and realized the time. "Time to blow this joint!"
After lunch, and some prospecting of the business area on
foot, I went home to hang out. We make our money in front of
clients, not in the office. Since I had an appointment this
evening at 7:30, I took an afternoon nap.
The business is lucrative though. It's possible to earn
up to two thousand dollars for one large sale. Not bad for a
couple of hours of work. This business has its highs and
lows. The lows are terrible, when sales are bad.
My older sister Candice helps me keep it all in
prospective. Ever since our dad died tragically a couple of
years ago, from a car accident, Candice and I became even
closer.
She always tells me, "Don't worry about the clowns that
don't want to buy, it's their loss!"
At times she's better than a psychotherapist.
My appointment was with a guy named Jimmy Lanski. Jim is
married and has two children; the perfect prospect. With
children his need for protection would be great.
At the time I made the appointment I found out that Jim
worked off the books, had no life insurance and was
interested. "This should be an easy sale tonight," I thought,
as I dozed off.
Chapter Two
It was 7:20 pm when I reached Jim Lanski's home. I
like to be early. The Lanskis and I hit it off great. There
was an immediate rapport between Jill, Jim's wife, Jim and
me.
The Lanskis knew that they needed life insurance. They
had no problem with the ninety dollars a month premium, for
the five hundred thousand dollars of protection on each of
them.
They were so happy with my needs analysis that they
willingly gave me a few referrals. Which was great.
Referrals are the life blood of the business. With referrals,
you at least have a chance to succeed.
The Lanskis told me to call their cousin, and their
uncle. The Uncle is Jim's mother's brother. It really was a
great night! I thought as I drove slowly back home, savoring
the moment of sweet success.
Bright and early on Friday, I was back in the district
sales office. Fridays are our reporting days, and the time
when the agents tally up their sales and report them to
management.
The office reminds me of the old West that I've seen in
the movies. Each week we have many agents coming and going
through the doors like the swinging doors of a Western
saloon. All the new agents come into the business like they
own the world - tough and confident.
In my short career so far with Financial Life, I've met
some real characters. There are agents that sit through
district training meetings, reviewing the horse racing form,
pretending to be listening intently, while secretly itching
to get out of the office to bet the ponies.
That's the biggest reason Harry never amounted to
anything. Harry has a bad gambling problem, and unfortunately
he keeps forgetting which is his money, and which is his
client's money for premiums.
Then there's wild Audrey. Audrey is a fairly new agent
with the company, and one of only two women of the twenty
three agents in the district.
Audrey thinks she's beautiful, when in fact, she's as
ugly as sin. So to compensate for her looks she resorts to
showing some extra skin. This tactic seems to be working
quite well with all the guys. One day she'll wear a real
short dress and no underwear, at least that's what Ben, the
district's only black agent, claims.
Ben looks like a pro wrestler. He's a big guy, with broad
shoulders and a big fat neck and head, much like a football
player or a weight lifter. Definitely not someone you'd want
to mess with.
Well, the way Ben tells it, Audrey, during a Friday
agency meeting, kept lifting her dress up, ever so slowly,
until as Ben once said, "You didn't have to use your
imagination anymore." All I know is, that all through the
meeting, Ben's eyes were getting bigger and whiter than we've
ever seen.
Then there's good old Freddy. Freddy's always in the
bathroom, and when he does come out he's always sniffing like
crazy. His eyes are always bloodshot. He usually looks spaced
out. Audrey said one day, "It doesn't take much imagination
to figure out what 'coke-head Fred' has been doing!"
It comes down to the bottom line. Some agents get away
with murder.
There's also Mel Flaine. Mel is the office rummy. He just
plain stinks like a bar rag. Rumor has it, old man Mel can
only stay sober long enough to get through the weekly Friday
meeting just to get his paycheck.
One day Mel came in the office drunk, tripped over a
chair and almost killed himself. The office was almost empty,
so only the secretary saw him.
Mel's the veteran of the office. He's been with the
company for nearly thirty years. So they just leave him
alone, even though he doesn't sell too much any more. It
makes you wonder just what the pressures of selling can do to
some people.
The last character of the office is Louie Remi. Now,
Louie is fifty-five years old, divorced and not all there.
Louie is at rock bottom in the insurance industry. Even
though he's been selling for some twenty years, he doesn't
earn more than a clerk in K-Mart.
Louie is neurotic. He's on a powerful anti-depressant
medication. One day he'll come over and hug you, and tell the
whole world how terrific you are. The next day he'll curse
you out.
Louie always was weird. He has even been known to
threaten peoples' lives, then blame it on his medication.
One time he threatened to kill another agent because he
thought the agent stole a lead off his desk. Five minutes
later Louie found it under his phone and tried to apologize.
Louie's also notorious for spreading wild rumors about
people throughout the office, especially when he gets jealous
of the top sales people. His personality is like Jeckyll and
Hyde. It's really a pisser though, to watch the reactions of
the new agents Louie comes in contact with. I learned right
away that the best thing to do is stay far away from crazy
Louie.
With all the strange and wild personalities we have, they
should re-name our agency: The Outer Limits.
There's just too much pressure to write business each
day. To make matters worse, the company threatens to fire you
every thirteen weeks, if your numbers don't exceed their
minimums.
"The Enforcer", as he's sometimes referred to, is the
district's manager Tom Somi. Tom is a tough manager. Even his
appearance is intimidating. Tom is fifty five, about five
foot ten, big, maybe 250 pounds and bald.
He looks tough, like he could take on three guys at once in a
bar room brawl.
I'm sure he was in the Army for a while. He's comical
though. Every time Tom gets mad, the whole top of his bald
head gets beet-red, along with his face and his ears. His
whole head gets so red you expect his head to burst any
second - a hot tamale ready to blow. Most of the agents try
not to get him excited. But not me. I guess I always get on
peoples' nerves. After all, I know I can run faster than him.
It is really funny when he gets all red in the face,
except when it's you that he's glaring at. Maybe it's been my
low-production, but lately Tom's head always seems much
redder when he's around me.
The most frequently asked questions from Tom are: "So
what have you got so far for the week?" and "How much in
premiums did you sell?" Then he always seems to turn red. So
I try to avoid him every chance I get. I usually wait for him
to go to the bathroom, so I can slip out quickly past his
office and through the back door.
Since it was our Friday report day, I submitted my
three new applications. Two of them being the Lanski
sales. The total annual premium came to fifteen hundred
dollars. Not bad for the week. But since I went blank the
previous two weeks, I was trying to keep a low-profile, and I
definitely wanted to avoid Tom. Quietly and slowly, I slipped
smoothly past his door, and into the hallway. Thinking that I
made it past the big-guy, I smiled, until I heard a booming
voice: "Not so fast Granstino!"
Slithering back I said: "Who me?"
"No your mother," he barked. "So you think you had a good
week, do you? You want to cut out of here at 11:30?"
"No, Tom, I wanted to drop in on some people."
"Why don't you just drop back into that seat there," he
said, pointing to the chair, "and tell me how you're going to
replace the two prospects you no longer have now, Frank?"
I had to admit, the big guy had a point. I had sold two
different families this week, so I had two less prospects
now. "Tom, I've got new names, I've got referrals!" I said
boasting.
"Oh you do, do you? Maybe you think that by keeping them
in your briefcase there, they'll multiply like humping
rabbits?" he asked sarcastically.
"No sir!" I snapped back.
His head and ears were beet-red again, he smiled
sarcastically again and said; "Why don't you make some more
calls before the weekend, so maybe we'll all be able to
eat again next week!"
"Good idea boss!" I said, as I exited his office by
backing out into the agents' room. I knew I wasn't going to
win this fight, not with this red-faced gorilla.
I was holding five good-quality referrals, like they were
maturing savings bonds. I didn't want to use them. Maybe I
was scared that I couldn't convert the referred leads into
appointments.
Sometimes agents don't have a single lead to call, and
must resort to making cold calls from the phone book. And
sometimes, when they do have some quality leads they're
somewhat reluctant to use them, for fear of using up their
ammunition.
I waited for the big gorilla to go to the bathroom and I
quickly slipped out. I'll call my leads when I want to! I
thought, as I drove my car into the start of my long
anticipated weekend.
Chapter Three
The weekend was fairly quiet. I'd recently broken off my
engagement with Lisa DeVoe. Lisa and I were going together
for about two years. And, as is the case in many
relationships, it was much better in the beginning. But
amazingly, as soon as we announced our engagement the
relationship started to sour to such a point that I felt
trapped. Like I'd lost my freedom and the ability to do the
things that I wanted to do.
Then, one day about two months ago we just blew up at
each other. The fight was so intense that we realized it was
far better to split up than to possibly kill each other.
Lisa was a beautiful woman. She had long auburn hair,
sparkling green eyes, and long legs. She stood about five
foot nine and looked like one of those fashion models, tall
and slim. Lisa was two years younger than me, and very smart.
Maybe too smart.
I realize now, that beauty alone doesn't guarantee a
happy life together. There has to be much more than looks;
something magical and special. A spark that will last
forever.
I did miss Lisa though, I wasn't really sure which part I
missed the most. The physical relationship, or just the
comfort and security in knowing that I had a girlfriend who
cared for me and that I wasn't alone.
On the weekends I try to forget about the insurance
business completely. This weekend I took in a couple of good
movies on cable. I also watched some baseball on TV, and went
out to a club with my friend Paul.
On Sunday, I went to see my mother in Staten Island. Of
course I stayed for dinner. Mom made my favorite: lasagna.
No one makes it better. Paul couldn't make it Sunday at my
mother's, but he has a standing invitation for dinner any
time.
My sister Candice was there too along with my niece,
Michele. Candice is thirty five years old. Michele is so
sweet, she always gives me a big hug and kiss. She looks up
to me, ever since her father ran off years ago.
It'd been a couple of weeks since I had dinner over Mom's
place. I love my mother, and my family very much, I only wish
I could see everyone more often. Life today though is very
fast paced. Before you know it a month slips by.
By Sunday night, the pangs of loneliness set in once
again. Lisa entered my mind, while I was straightening up the
apartment.
Bright and early Monday morning, I was in the office
sitting at my desk, planning my week. I was the first one in
the office. It was good, there was no one to distract me, no
small-talk to waste my time.
As I sat with a large container of coffee, along with all
my notes and prospecting names scattered over the top of my
desk. I thought, who should I call first? Which ones were my
best prospects? I put the hottest ones at the top. It was
time to make some quality appointments and keep Tom off my
rear end.
By 10:00 I had made a top 50 list. Then, the prospects
I've been calling for weeks now, and unable to secure
appointments with, were put toward the bottom.
Alright then, number one: Tony Vongemi, Jimmy and Jill's
referral, looked real good. Tony is Jimmy's boss and uncle.
By far, this was the best lead I had.
I remembered that Jimmy said there was no medical
insurance on the job. There were 10 employees that worked
there, and it was a family-owned restaurant. The name of the
restaurant was: Little Part Of Italy. It was on 86th Street
in the Bay Ridge section of Brooklyn. The time was 10:20 am,
time to call the restaurant.
"Tony please," I said.
"Hold on!" snapped a deep and powerful voice. After about
a minute I heard, "Yeah what is it!" With a smile in my voice
I said, "Hi Tony, it's Frank Granstino, from Financial Life
Insurance, a friend of Jimmy & Jill Lanski's. They suggested
I call to speak with you about medical insurance. I'd like to
make an appointment to drop by and see you"
"A friend of Jimmy's, sure, come by tonight at 7:00. I
got to run, good-bye!" he said this so fast, I almost didn't
catch it, as I heard the phone slam down.
On my way out of the office, Tom stood in my way blocking
my exit. "Anything good setup for the week?" he asked.
"How about a ten man group at a restaurant?" I boasted.
"It's about time Granstino!" he said sarcastically as he
moved out of my way.
As I walked past him, all I could think to myself was:
Watch it, go bother someone else!
My friend, Paul Luggi, worked in the city for Trelane, a
large accounting firm. Like most New York City workers, he
worked nine to five. I called him a prisoner, because he
could never leave.
"Oh yeah, at least I don't have to beg people for a sale,
like you, so I can eat each week," he'd always say.
Although he had a point I still felt free, and "freedom
does have its price." I keep reminding myself. I knew Paul
would be at work, so I called him.
"Hi Paul it's Frank. What do you know about a restaurant
called: A Little Part Of Italy, I've got an appointment with
the owner tonight?"
All I heard was laughing, then he said, "Don't you know?"
"No I don't know, what's the joke?"
"I think that place is run by the Mafia! Frank, you'd
better watch yourself, pal! I'll talk to you later, I've got
to run," he said, while laughing hysterically.
That's all everyone knows how to say, I said to myself,
Mafia this, Mafia that. Everyone in Brooklyn can't be in the
Mafia, not every store and restaurant at least.
Chapter Four
It was ten minutes to seven, as I circled around the block
for the third time passing the restaurant, looking for a
parking spot. I didn't want to park in their parking lot, at
least not on my first visit. I'm funny like that.
Another five minutes passed before I caught an available
parking spot not far from the restaurant. It's times like
these, that I really hate Brooklyn.
The place was beautiful. It had an all-stone exterior
with hand-carved solid-wood double doors, which were stained
in a rich walnut finish. Inside the restaurant there were
shining marble floors with white, fluted wood columns
throughout. The hardwood floors were walnut with elegant
heavy trim gracing all the ceilings at the top of the
beautiful walnut-planked walls.
The tables were of solid marble, with black wrought-iron
chairs that had lush red-velvet cushions. All this was topped
off with soft Italian music. "Talk about ambiance," I
thought. It gave me a feeling like I was actually in an
elegant cafe in Italy. It was by far the most spectacular
restaurant I had ever seen.
A maitre'd, dressed in a white tuxedo, smiled, and asked,
"How may I help you?"
"I'm here to see Tony," I said cautiously.
"Is he expecting you?"
"Yes," I said, I have an appointment, just tell him
Frank, from Financial Life."
Still in awe of the place, I patiently waited. A short
time later the maitre'd returned and motioned me to follow
him to a back room.
Seated at a table towards the rear of the room, was a man
in his late fifties. I knew it was Tony Vongemi, because the
only other people in the room were two big and bulky-looking
guys in their late 20's. They were hanging around one on each
side of the doorway.
Tony was impeccably dressed, his suit was perfectly
tailored, his salt and pepper hair was styled and neat. He
had expensive looking diamond rings, but not too flashy. I
could tell Tony Vongemi had class.
I introduced myself. He was very cordial. We spoke about
his nephew Jimmy, my client and his head waiter. "Jimmy is a
good boy," he said. "We also like Jill."
We also talked about the Yankees and the Knicks which, we
were both fans of. "I miss Don Mattingly. He was a worker.
Really committed to the task at hand. I respect that. We look
for hard workers in my line of work. Those are the kind that
get ahead."
"I know exactly what you mean, Tony. Mattingly was my
favorite Yankee too."
I guess we hit it off well. So well in fact, that Tony
had given me two tickets for Sunday's basketball game. The
Knicks were playing the New Jersey Nets at the Meadowlands. I
was thrilled to death, I just loved the Knicks.
"You're going to the game on me, my friend. Wait till you
see the reserved seats we have this season. You've never been
this close to the action. You're going to feel like the
players are going to pass the ball right to you!"
Tony wouldn't let me talk about business until I had
dinner with him, as his guest. Feeling very much at ease, I
had the seafood special and a couple of glasses of fine white
wine. After a fabulous dinner Tony offered me an imported
cigar, which I politely refused. While I watched him smoke we
had a couple of cups of espresso, with Sambuca on the side,
while we talked business.
"Okay, talk to me. I want to take care of my workers.
They're good people. They do anything for me. What can I do
to show them I appreciate their respect and dedication?"
"Well, you could start a medical group plan, and pay for
some, or all of the premiums," I said.
I then showed Tony a few different quotes for group
medical insurance.
"Do it, just start the ball rolling. Let me know what the
damage is, and it's a done deal. Okay with you Frankie?"
"That's a good move, your employees will appreciate it,"
I said.
"Yeah, a little respect goes a long way. At least that's
the way I see it," he said.
Then, Tony asked, "How about life insurance for me?
That's a good idea. What would three hundred thou cost?"
"About $6,000 per year."
"That sounds good Frankie, sign me up! You know, I like
you Granpino.."
"That's Granstino, Tony, but you can call me Harry, if
you want."
"You're a funny guy too! I like that. Just make sure you
do the right thing!" he said, as he reached for his checkbook
and proceeded to write out a check for a thousand dollars.
Tony handed the check to me as he said, "I'll give you
the other five thou, in cash, when you drop the policy
off to me."
When I asked Tony for referrals, he told me that he'd be
calling me next week with some leads. All in all it was a
great night. I made my quota for the month in just hours.
I was thrilled and somewhat relieved that the constant
sales pressure I was feeling, from low-production, was
finally lifted. On the way home I stopped at Dunkin Donuts
and celebrated. Three donuts and a couple of cups of coffee
later, I headed home a very happy man. This business is great
when the sales are coming in. It's keeping it going that's
tough.
Chapter Five
It took only two weeks to get Tony Vongemi's policy
issued. He was approved as a preferred non-smoker even though
he smoked cigars. The company allows for cigar smoking by the
insured as long as no cigarettes are smoked.
Tony's blood tests all came back favorable and his blood
pressure readings were excellent. Not bad for a 59 year old
man. My friend Paul couldn't believe that I sold Tony Vongemi
a policy.
I told Paul how friendly Tony was, but all he did was
laugh. Paul said, "Frank, you're the most gullible guy
around. I checked it out. Don't you know that the Mafia owns
The Little Part of Italy restaurant, and that Tony Vongemi's
whole family is in the mob. Frank, Tony's brother, Bobby 'The
Bull Dog', is a captain in one of the most powerful families
in organized crime."
Shaking my head I said, "No, Tony Vongemi is a legitimate
business owner. I met the man, he's a nice guy. He's got
class. I don't care what his family does, Paul, besides, I've
got to make a living. I can't be scared to sell to everyone I
come across. Anyway, how can I get into any trouble just
selling life insurance?"
"I don't know yet," Paul said, while in deep thought,
"but you better be above board in everything you do!"
"Frankie, how've you been?" asked Tony Vongemi as he
hugged me when I entered the back room of the restaurant.
Reluctantly, I put my arms around him.
"Great!" I said, "Nice to see you again Tony."
"Carlo, get Frankie a drink and whatever he wants to
eat!" he shouted at one of the guards standing watch at the
doorway. The man jumped, as if he'd been stuck with a needle.
I quickly turned my attention back to my business. After
all, I was there to deliver his policy and get the rest of a
six thousand dollar premium, which was my biggest sale ever.
While placing the policy in front of Tony, I said,
"Congratulations Tony, you've been approved for three hundred
thousand dollars worth of life insurance!"
"What do I owe you?" he asked.
"It comes to five thousand one hundred fifty dollars." I
said confidently.
"Benny, get me the money from the safe, and hurry up!" he
barked.
Again somebody jumped and ran, all I could think of as I
watched was, Boy these guys move pretty fast. Especially for
guys that look bigger than football players.
"How did you like that Knick game, Frankie?"
"Tony, it was great! Thanks for those tickets. I was so
glad they won that night, it was really a close game."
"Yeah" he said, "I had a thousand on that game!"
Benny returned carrying all crisp new one hundred dollar
bills, and proceeded to count them out for me.
"Tony, thanks for allowing me to help you with your
insurance needs. I'd now like to help some of your friends."
"You want some names Frankie Boy?"
"Yeah, sure!" I said, confidently, "if you like the job
I've done for you, Tony."
"Well Frankie, I've been thinking for a while now, since
I saw you a few weeks ago. I'm going to make a list for you
of some of my Paisans to call on, because I like you
Frankie," he said, as he reached over and pinched my cheek
quite hard. "You're not pushy. Not all sales, you're okay!"
"Thanks-Tony. So when do you want me to pick up the
names?"
"Drop by tomorrow after lunch," he said. "Just remember,
Frankie, do the right thing! You take care of me, I take care
of you," he said, while staring at me.
As I looked into Tony's eyes, I knew, that I definitely
would do the right thing.
The next day, at the restaurant, I picked up the sealed
envelope with names that Tony had left for me. It was about
1:30 in the afternoon. He left it with the bartender. I was
told, Tony wasn't available, so I stayed for one glass of
white wine then left.
As I drove back to my office, I kept wondering how many
referrals Tony had given me. After all, getting quality
referrals is the hardest part of the job.
Once I reached my office, I settled in at my desk. I
quickly gathered up all of my office mail and put it on the
side as I opened Tony's referred-leads envelope. Inside the
envelope, it looked like a gift from heaven. Not only were
there names, but so much more. Tony wrote out the
occupation, salary, marital status, number of children of
each of the prospects and more. From what I could tell, Tony
only gave me his friends and workers, no relatives.
Then, what was very interesting, were the instructions
Tony put next to each person's data: how much premium to
charge each family, and approximately what amount insurance I
should sell each person. He explained, it was his estimate,
based on his knowledge of each person's income.
Most importantly though, I was instructed to tell each
referral that Tony Vongemi wants them to buy the insurance
only from me. This type of thing just doesn't happen to life
insurance agents.
For what must've been twenty minutes, I sat staring
aimlessly at the list in front of me. There were thirty
different referrals, all listed with complete notes.
There was no doubt about it; Tony Vongemi was my most
important insurance connection. In sales we call them "center
of influences." With his solid leads, I could easily meet all
my quotas, and finally stop begging people to buy policies
from me.
Over the next three weeks, I was able to sell eighteen
new policies to twelve of the Vongemi referrals, for annual
premiums of almost nineteen thousand dollars. Selling
policies on these leads was quite honestly the easiest sales
I've made since I started my selling career. They anxiously
wanted to buy as soon as I mentioned Tony Vongemi.
All I'd do, was mention his name and like magic they'd
do anything for me. It was turning out to be a real gold
mine. I had finally found the pot of gold at the end of the
rainbow. I wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize the gold
mine now.
Not only was I selling Tony's people, but I was also
getting referrals from them too. Sales were so good, that I
sent Tony a giant basket of gourmet fruit, and imported
cheeses.
Tony was so happy with my gift, that he mailed me another
thirty names. I was on top of the world. Enclosed, once
again, was full information on each referral. Including their
income, along with the amounts of Insurance he suggested that
I insure them for, and what he felt they could afford.
When I told my friend, Paul, just how many leads Tony had
given me, and how much money I was making, he cautioned me
again. Paul said, "Frankie, be careful buddy, watch your
back!" Then he asked, "Frankie do you know how to swim?"
"Of course, Paul, don't be silly!"
Then Paul said sarcastically, "You'd better learn how to
swim with concrete shoes!"
"Nice talk Pauly! Why don't you just get my casket ready.
You're always so scared of everybody!" I said, somewhat
pissed off.
"Don't say I didn't warn you Frank!" he said in a
completely serious tone of voice.
All I cared about was making money, and keeping the sales
manager, Tom, off my back. For a change, actually for the
first time since I started, I was doing extremely well.
After these two most recent months now, I had sold thirty
five of Tony's leads. I felt ecstatic. Things were going
great for me.
Every few days I'd call to thank Tony and he'd give me
more leads and also give me free tickets for basketball and
hockey games. It was almost as if I was doing him a favor.
But in reality, he had already put almost thirty thousand
dollars of commissions in my pocket, and he was responsible
for making me the number one agent in my district.
Even Tom the manager, told me to keep up the good work.
For a change he'd lightened up. Now, he didn't care if I
missed meetings or reporting days, as long as I had plenty of
business. For once he was a happy man.
Everything had turned around for me. My pay check was so
large now I couldn't spend it all. I was socking most of it
away each week. For the first time in years, I'd built up a
nice bank account. Financially I was happy. But I had no
girlfriend, it was lonely. But time was moving fast.
All the leads were keeping me so busy, selling and delivering
polices, that I didn't have much time for anything else.
For once in my life though, I felt no real pressure. My
bills were all paid up, and I even bought a brand new car, a
ruby red Cadillac Eldorado. I had always wanted a Cadillac.
My whole life, all I ever drove were bombs. Finally, I owned
a car that didn't bang and rattle as I drove.
Frank Granstino had finally arrived. I'd finally achieved
success. The entire office showed me respect. I even started
smoking expensive cigars which Tony had gotten me started on.
He even gave me my first several Cuban cigars. "If you're
going to smoke, go in style," Tony said, when he handed me my
first 'real cigars'. The cigars I now smoke, at least are
affordable. But they still make me feel like a big shot.
For the first time, I purchased a real gold bracelet, and
a sapphire and diamond pinky ring. Then there was the big
screen television set, a forty inch job. When Paul saw the
television, he flipped. "What do you think, you're a movie
star now. Sure it's great, especially for the basketball
games, just don't get carried away buddy!" he said.
"Aw, don't worry, easy come, easy go!"
Chapter Six
It was Monday morning and I was dragging a little. I
arrived at the office a little late, while outside, the
temperature was 93 degrees, and it was only 9:30 in the
morning.
The weather report predicted that it would break one
hundred degrees once again for the fifth day in a row. Much
too hot to work, I thought, as I slowly and lazily drifted
into the office and sat at my desk.
The telephone message stared at me from the top of my
desk. It was marked: "9:01 am. Monday: Urgent, call Mr. V.
at home."
I knew instantly who it was, but why he called worried
me. Tony, had never before asked me to call him at home. Let
me wake up first, I thought as I poured a fresh cup of
coffee.
As I dialed his number, I sipped my coffee trying to come
alive. "Hello Tony?"
"Yeah, what is it!" he snapped, in his usual rough
sounding voice.
"Tony, it's Frankie G, from Financial Life, how are you?"
"Oh it's you Frankie. How've you been?" he asked, as his
voice softened up considerably.
"I'm great Tony, what's up?"
"Oh yeah, Jo Jo's dead," he said so abruptly, that I
couldn't answer. "Frankie did you hear me!" he snapped.
"Huh, oh y-yes," I stammered, still stunned from shock.
"When, what, ah, what happened?"
"Heart attack. Over the weekend. He went in his sleep.
Didn't feel a thing. You know Frankie, that's the way to go.
Quiet-like," Tony said.
"Tony, he was only 33 years old and in perfect condition.
He passed his insurance physical with flying colors," I said
feeling totally flabbergasted. "He had small children. Tony
this is terrible," I said, as a tremendous feeling of sadness
overcame me.
"Yeah, these things happen. So, what do we - what does
the wife have to do to collect Frankie? The body's already
in the morgue"
The way he said it was so cold, so matter-of-fact-like.
All I could tell him, was that I would call him back later.
Then I asked about the wake and the funeral. Tony told me
that everything would be done from Italy, where that morning
they were flying the body back to.
I knew Jo-Jo came from Italy, so I didn't think much of
it. All I could do was feel very sad for his three little
children and his lovely wife, Caterina.
Somewhat in a daze, I sat at my desk deep in thought,
oblivious to all the office noise and activity. The sales
office was packed for a Monday morning, with all its urging
phones and sales stories being shared by many agents.
I was troubled for the moment, contemplating. My mind was
racing, deep in thought. Thinking about the loss of my first
client. My first death claim, since becoming an agent. I
never thought it would happen so soon. I even remembered the
smile on Jo-Jo's face, when I spoke of the possibility of
dying.
No one ever thinks that it could happen to them. Death is
a distant thought for most people. I remembered sitting at
the kitchen table in his apartment, together with his wife,
Caterina and his three children, I remember thinking, How
loving and respectful these children are.
I remember seeing the sparkle of admiration in Caterina's
eyes, as I spoke about her husband. Especially, as I asked
all the questions on the application, including the type of
work he did.
What'll happen to the family - now? It just depressed me,
thinking about it. Especially when Jo-Jo's face was so vivid
in my mind. As much as I talk to everyone about the
possibility of dying, I still never want to accept the fact
that one of my clients will ever die. Especially when there
are children involved. I hate this part of the job, I
thought, while staring into space.
After speaking with Tom, the manager, I called Tony back.
I told him that all we need is an original death certificate
and an obituary clipping from the local newspaper. Tony said
he'd get the requirements needed. Even though I told him that
I'd gladly visit the wife to pick it up.
"He was a Paisan, he worked for the Family, so I'll take
care of everything, Frankie, You understand," he said.
"We're also paying for the funeral," he said with pride.
Of course, I immediately backed off, knowing I wouldn't
get my way. I said, "Fine, Tony, I'm always here if you need
me"
"I need you only to pay the death benefit," he said, as I
heard the click of the phone, after he abruptly hung up.
I filed his attitude away in my mind. Tony did have a
tough way about him. No doubt because of the Mafia family
association, or maybe just his own unique personality.
Still, all I could hear was my friend Paul's words,
"Watch your rear end Frank," and the one about learning how
to swim, "wearing your concrete shoes."
Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe, I was blowing it all out
of proportion. Still I couldn't help wondering; What did I
get myself into with this Vongemi Family?
The Financial Life Insurance Company paid out the death
benefit of five hundred thousand dollars, to Caterina.
Surprisingly, it took only six weeks of investigation to
settle the claim.
I was feeling a little guilty. After all, I had sold only
a fair amount of policies so far for the company. Less than
two hundred thousand dollars in new premiums, and already I
was responsible for sticking them with a half-million dollar
death claim.
Feeling somewhat self conscious, I didn't want to show my
face around the office, at least for a few days. Again I felt
sad and disappointed, mostly over losing a young client.
I was, however, doing a great job with new sales for the
office. For the year so far, I was currently the number one
agent in the district. Most of my recent sales though were
from Tony Vongemi's leads. Ever since meeting Tony, I had
sold more than thirty of his referred leads, and was
currently making a great deal of money.
Chapter Seven
Tony was very pleased with my handling of Jo-Jo's death
claim. After the insurance death claim check was mailed, Tony
invited me to be his special guest at dinner. Of course, I
accepted. Maybe he had more referred leads for me.
With sales going so well I dared not jeopardize my
relationship with Tony. I enjoyed being the number one agent
in the district. And I loved the fact that I was stock -
piling money in the bank. I had been broke for so long, that
I didn't want go backwards ever again.
Once I arrived at the restaurant for dinner, Tony told me
how professional I was, and what a good job I was doing with
the leads he'd been giving me.
Tony reminded me, "one hand washes the other, Frankie.
You take care of me, I take care of you. Understand?"
"Yes Tony, absolutely!"
And Tony did take care of me. We had the biggest lobster
tails I'd ever seen, along with a fancy white wine called:
Pouilly Fousse. When Tony was happy he didn't spare any
expense. And on this night he was ecstatic.
But I was slowly learning more and more about Tony
Vongemi, the man. I kept telling myself not to get too close
to him. I guess I was starting to wise up. For the first
time, I realized that there was something more to Tony.
Something more than a classy restaurant owner. Every time I
felt myself really liking Tony Vongemi, the person, I kept
telling myself, how I like my kneecaps. I especially like
that my knees bend, whenever I want them to and I'd like it
to stay that way.
Another month had passed until I heard from Tony again.
This time another client of mine died, it was also someone
given to me by Tony.
This time I was told that Liborio Tiullo had died, from
an accident while crossing the street. I couldn't believe it,
I had lost another client, and now the insurance company was
faced with another claim. This one was also five hundred
thousand dollars.
Now I was really starting to suspect something.
Especially when I found out that Liborio's family had moved
to Italy just two months ago, and that this wake would also
be in Italy.
I was beginning to seriously wonder about Tony Vongemi,
the man that I'd thought was nothing more than a shrewd
businessman.
A few days later I received a call from Tony. He asked me
to come to the restaurant that evening. Tony told me he had
just received Liborio Tiullo's death certificate.
I didn't want to speak to Tony. Not at this time. Even
though I was selling so much insurance, the company was
talking about giving me my own detached office, along with a
secretary of my own.
I knew that I owed my new found success for the year to
Tony. But I had no desire to be any part of, nor have
anything to do with any kind of fraud - or the Mafia. Still,
I knew that you just didn't say no to Tony Vongemi.
It was almost 7:30 pm when I entered Tony's restaurant.
This time Benny and Carlo, Tony's heavies, were both waiting
for me. They were sitting at the bar.
As soon as they saw me they jumped up and rushed over to
me. Carlo said: "The boss is waiting for you in the back
room. Let's go, Bub."
I looked at Carlo, then at Benny. My first instinct was
to run back outside, but casually I strolled along. After
all, Tony liked me, I told myself as I felt my hands starting
to sweat. These guys are looking more and more like gorillas,
I thought to myself as we kept walking slowly to the back
room.
Tony was waiting for me. As soon as I walked in the room
he jumped up to greet me, and of course there was the
usual hugging. This time though, he kissed me on both cheeks.
I hate when grown men hug, and now we'd progressed to
kissing, I don't understand it. My ears must've turned red,
because they felt hot all of a sudden.
"Tony, my friend, how've you been," I said, as if I had
actually missed him.
"Great Frankie, my boy. And how are you?"
"Oh, I'm just fantastic," I said, as he slapped me on the
back just hard enough to remind me, that he was the man.
"Come, sit with me, we'll drink and eat. You spend a few
hours with me my friend. Frankie, you don't mind do you?
You've got nothing to do, do you?"
"No, of course not!" I said, as I thought, I'd rather
have a fist fight with the heavyweight champ, than be around
these mugs. I smiled as I casually looked at Carlo and Benny,
who took their usual spots standing guard near the door. They
just stared straight ahead.
Tony waved his arm, "Have the cook start preparing our
meal!" he shouted at Carlo. Tony smiled at me, with a twinkle
in his eyes, and said, "The chef is preparing us something
extraordinary. Peking duck, it's one of his specialties."
"Great Tony, I've never had it, but I've heard that it's
very good," I smiled.
One of the waiters ran through the doorway and asked us
what we wanted to drink. Tony abruptly stopped him by waving
his hand in his face and said, "Bring us the Cristall
champagne and make sure it keeps flowing!"
All I could do was smile, feeling a little like I was
Tony's personal date for the night. That stuff is expensive,
I thought to myself. I was so glad I wasn't a girl, or Tony
would surly be expecting sex tonight, I thought. Then I
looked closer at him and thought. Thank goodness he's not
funny, or I'd really be in trouble!
"So, how's business Frankie? You still leading the
office in sales?"
"Yes, thanks to your referrals. Thank you again Tony," I
said.
"Good. You're a good boy, Frankie. You stay that way.
Don't ever change!" he said, cautioning me with his finger in
my face. "You're a good boy. You don't do any drugs, I can
tell, you know!"
"No, Tony, I would never touch the stuff. Women are my
only vice," I said, smiling from ear to ear.
"Yeah, me too, Frankie," he said, with a little wink.
He waved at Benny now, and put up two fingers. Benny just
shook his head and left the room.
"Boy, this man has some power!" I thought.
The champagne was smoother than anything I ever had. We
started a third bottle of Cristall, as our dinner was almost
over. What a magnificent meal, and great champagne! I
thought, You'd think it was my last meal, it was so good.
"Tony, thank you for dinner. It was great. I'm stuffed!"
I said, before I realized that I really didn't want to use
those words, in front of this man.
"Yes, me too, Frankie. It wasn't bad"
Why was Tony being so nice to me? I was scared to
approach him about the two dead clients he referred to me.
It was too much of a coincidence. I refrained from mentioning
it, as much as it bothered me. Especially when he told me,
"You know Frankie, I think of you as one of us. One of the
good guys, don't ever become a rat. We hate rats!"
At that instant Benny entered with two gorgeous women,
one on each side. One was a blonde blue-eyed bombshell, the
other a brunette with green eyes.
Tony got up from the table and introduced the girls. The
blonde's name was Alice, the other girl was Susan. I couldn't
take my eyes off of Susan; it was those beautiful green eyes.
Tony announced: "Alice and Susan will join us for
dessert."
With a light buzzing in my head from the champagne, I was
ready for anything.
My eyes lit up, as Susan sat next to me, she touched my
arm and said, "Well, hello, handsome!"
I must've melted. After all it had been months since a
beautiful woman was this close to me. Her perfume was
enticing, but not overpowering. All I could do was smile.
Tony had our waiter bring us various bottles of after dinner
liquors. I was feeling no pain.
After about an hour of chit-chat, Susan stood me up and
started dancing slow, as she pulled me up to join her. Right
there next to the table, as we danced close, Susan whispered
little suggestions to me and blew softly in my ear. Well,
that was all I needed, I held her closer than before. The
warmth of her body against mine, felt magical and gave me
goosebumps.
At this point she winked at Tony and Alice, Susan led me
to Tony's private office. It was like a dream come true. I
was there being seduced by a beautiful woman. We quickly
changed the convertible couch to the bed, and the rest of the
night made wild passionate love.
All I could think as I wobbled up the steps to my
apartment was, What a night! What a spectacular girl!
This guy Tony is alright! And then I caught myself. Wait a
minute, if he's dirty, then someone's collected one million
dollars, and I'm the guy writing up the polices!
Not only that, but at this point, I must've written fifty
or more of Tony's leads. What the heck is going to happen?
How many more young people are going to die?
I called Tony the next day. "Thanks Tony, last night was
great. I can't get over the ladies, they were awesome!"
"No problem, Frankie. You're like family now. By the way,
stop by later, I've got twenty more leads for you buddy!"
"Alright, thank you again Tony," I said, but I really
felt like running. Now he considered me; "like family"
Great! Just what I needed, I was now a part of the
Vongemi Mafia Family. All I could think of was the movie, The
Godfather, where everyone was getting killed off.
With the Mafia, no one was ever safe, no matter how
important. What's going to happen now? I thought, as I
shook my head from side to side. I knew that I was in too
deep. Just thinking about my situation scared me. I had to
continue to be friendly, but I didn't want to be buddy-buddy.
Not with Tony, or any of his friends. All this thinking made
my head throb.
Chapter Eight
It'd been three weeks since my night of delight with Tony
Vongemi, and of course Susan. Then, just when I was starting
to forget, the call came in at the office. It was Tony.
He sounded nonchalant, as he said, "Frankie, Anthony
Probine is dead, they think it was his heart. Too bad for
Anthony, huh, Frankie!"
"Yes, Tony, I can't believe Anthony's gone. He was so
young. Tony, I'll drop the papers off at the restaurant, so
we can begin working on the death claim." It was a call I'd
been expecting. My worst suspicion was true. Something stunk
in Brooklyn, and it wasn't cheese.
What was worse, was that I had insured Anthony for a one
million dollar life insurance policy. That made two million
dollars in claims, so far. All of them, Tony Vongemi's
personal recommendations.
All of a sudden I felt like throwing up. I wanted to tell
Tony Vongemi exactly what I thought of him.
It was then that I realized for the first time ever, I
was bringing home over three thousand dollars a week, all
because of Tony's leads.
What was I going to do? I couldn't tell the insurance
company. I couldn't tell my manager, Tom. I couldn't even
tell my friend Paul. I'd only be putting other people, good
people, in terrible danger. No, I had to keep it all to
myself. As hard as that seemed, I had to try to come up with
some idea on my own. Maybe I needed a break, a change of
routine for a while. A change of scenery, maybe I'd take a
vacation to Paradise Island, in the Bahamas. I had plenty of
money now.
There's enough of sales commissions coming in and I've
got vacation time coming. I said, trying to convince myself.
That's what I'll do. As soon as I submit the latest death
claim on Anthony Probine, I'll just take off for a two week
vacation.
It was 3 o'clock in the afternoon when I walked through
the entrance of the Little Part of Italy restaurant. I
purposely showed up at that time so no customers would be
around.
After seeing Tony sitting at the bar, I walked over to
him. He gave me the customary hugs and kiss that I hated so
much.
Not wanting to be there at all, I handed Tony the death
laim forms for Anthony Probine's claim and informed him that
as soon as he had them completed, I'd submit them to the
company for payment.
Then I told him about my sudden vacation plans. He looked
a little annoyed as he said, "Why so sudden Frankie? Are you
running from someone?"
"No Tony, I just need a break, a change of scenery."
"What about my claim? I mean the Probine's claim?" he
snapped.
"Oh don't worry, Tony I'll be back way before the company
is through with their claims process. It'll be alright."
"You know Frankie, that's a lot of money. One million
dollars. A real lot of money. Nothing better go wrong!"
As I drove away from the restaurant, all I could hear
over and over again, was Tony, with his tough Brooklyn
accent, saying; "Nothing better go wrong! Nothing better go
wrong!"
Feeling edgy, I pulled into the first bar I saw. A place
called The Cool Splash and ordered a couple of glasses of
white wine. I was starting to feel a little nervous.
My hands were cold and clammy. Maybe it was all the
claims, or maybe it was just Tony Vongemi, and my fear of the
Mafia. I had three drinks in ten minutes.
Once again I heard the threat, "Nothing better go wrong!"
What had I gotten myself into? Here I was, a young man
just starting my business career, and already I was in
trouble.
Already my career was in jeopardy. But, more importantly
I was now part of some kind of conspiracy with the mob.
Feeling trapped, like I was in deep trouble now, I didn't
know what to do.
I knew one thing for certain though, I must keep my mouth
shut, and not panic. I've got to play along. After all, I
thought, I'm only twenty seven years old.
Chapter Nine
There's something magical about flying above and through
the clouds. The plane was a TWA 747, a big roomy and
comfortable plane. It looked brand new to me. It even smelled
new. It'd only been a week earlier that I made my
reservation.
The bigger the plane, the safer I feel. Flying for me has
always been a nerve-wracking experience, although I've
recently learned to relax and finally try to enjoy it.
This flight was extremely relaxing, especially since I
was going in style. First-class all the way. Why not. That's
what I said to the travel agent when she asked if I wanted