Brutal_ The Untold Story of My Life Inside Whitey Bulger's Irish Mob - Kevin Weeks [17]
At the wedding, Billy Connell was my best man. Billy and I had known each other since we were kids growing up in the Old Colony projects and had lived together on West Third Street before Pam and I got married. We’d had some fun times decorating that apartment. One night, around 4:00 A.M., Billy, Pam, and I walked into an all-night Howard Johnson’s restaurant in Andrew Square, picked up a seventy-five-pound plant, and walked out with it. When a waitress asked us what we were doing, I told her in a serious, no-nonsense tone that we were tree surgeons. She nodded just as seriously as we carefully set the plant in the back of Pam’s father’s Suburban and drove off. My first parlor set came from the hotel part of the same restaurant a few weeks later. That time, around two in the afternoon, another friend and I picked up a couch and love seat like we knew what we were doing and threw them in the back of the Suburban. No one paid any attention to us. I learned a good lesson decorating that apartment: Nobody will think anything is wrong if you do it calmly. It’s too obvious to be a crime. That particular lesson turned out to be useful.
The guest list for the wedding included the older guys I was now spending more time with. Jimmy Bulger and Stevie Flemmi sat at a table with Kevin O’Neil, another owner of Triple O’s; Freddie Weichel, a friend of mine; and Johnny Pretzie, a friend who trained me late in my boxing career. I made sure the wedding photographer understood that there would be no pictures taken of that table. Everybody acted like gentlemen and had a great time. Pam’s and my song was “Always and Forever” by Heatwave, and our disc jockey was Joey Cunningham. It was a beautiful April afternoon and a perfectly happy occasion. My new wife and I left two days later for a week in Disney World where we stayed at the Contemporary Hotel.
But from the time Pam and I got engaged, I had been spending more hours at Triple O’s, the rowdy, popular South Boston watering hole on West Broadway, named for and owned by the three O’Neil brothers, Jackie, Kevin, and Billy. I’d left Flix and gone to work there, along with some of my friends, bringing up ice and beer, keeping the ice stocked. I was also working for the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority from 7:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M., at a job my brother Jack got me, laying track. It was simple but hard work and I enjoyed the physical labor. Even though I wasn’t making great money there, I was getting all the benefits.
But on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, I was working at Triple O’s, a dimly lit, smoke-filled place with booths for eating, as well as a long bar with stools. Local South Boston artists covered the walls with colorful cartoon drawings of Disney scenes and the Seven Dwarfs and some caricatures of Triple O’s regulars. Bartenders poured shots and waitresses served hamburgers and steak tips, along with cold sandwiches like ham and cheese. A small dance floor with a jukebox occupied a section of the bar. On weekends, a DJ or sometimes a live band came in. The place could hold over 150 people and was always busy, especially so on my nights. As soon as Gillette switched shifts at 4:30 in the afternoon, the place got packed. The corporate headquarters and factory for all the Gillette personal grooming products was right behind Triple O’s. At 9:00 P.M., the Gillette people would filter out to go home and the locals would come