Read Online American Desperado by Jon Roberts, Evan Wright - Free Book Online Page A

bad a bad person can be. Good people are good, but they’re also a little bit stupid. That’s why my sister never lost hope in me. She was good.
    J UDY : There was a boy I had dated in high school, Walter Hutter, * who had gone on to work at E. F. Hutton as a stock trader. I called him up and asked him, “Please, can you find a job for my little brother?”
    J . R .: Walter Hutter had always been in love with my sister. He had been a great athlete in high school. He was signed to play pro baseball, but he fucked up his arm and went into the stock business. When he agreed to hire me, my sister begged me, “Do me this one favor, Jon. Go in and work for Walter. Try it.”
    I said, “Judy, I love you. You’re my sister. I’ll do it for you.”
    I thought it would be interesting to get inside a brokerage house and see how they made money. I bought a suit and tie and nice shoes to look proper. I went down to Wall Street the next morning. I find the building, ride up the elevator, and there’s Walter. He’s in his suit. I’m in mine.
    “Hey, Walter.”
    “Jon, I’m going to teach you how to chart stocks.” He led me into his office.
    “Okay, what do I do?”
    “Take this blank paper and read these numbers. Write this into a chart.”
    I charted stocks all morning. By lunchtime I was getting uptight with this bullshit work. I thought, God Almighty, when do I start to make money? I’m not going to sit here for a fucking month and make charts .
    Walter invited me to have a sandwich with him in the lunchroom, but I went down to the street to smoke a joint so I could relax. I came back to the office lit out of my mind. But I was calm.
    Walter said, “Jon, I made some transactions this morning. You’re going to post them in the book. When you finish, I’ll explain to you what we just did.”
    “Walter, I’m not stupid. I can figure out what we’re doing.”
    He told me to watch myself.
    I tried to calm things down by explaining myself. “Walter, I want you to teach me how to buy stocks and make money. Don’t make me do this shit-ass paperwork, man.”
    Walter told me I had no choice. The walls were becoming tighter. My pot wore off. I was starting to lose it. I was not on the level. I was feeling violent. I said, “Walter, I don’t feel good. I better go home.”
    “On your first day of work?”
    “Walter, listen to me. For your sake and my sake, let me leave early.”
    Lucky for him, he agreed.
    I went home. I told my sister, “Judy, I don’t think a stockbroker job is a wise thing.”
    “Please, give it a chance.”
    “All right, Judy. I’ll give it a chance.”
    I went in for a whole week, maybe two. Finally, I can’t take it. I go one morning, and Walter says, “Okay, Jon. Here’s the paper. Chart ten stocks.”
    “I’ll tell you what, Walter. Here’s your paper. Use it as toilet paper. Shove it up your fucking ass.”
    Walter stands up.
    “Walter, sit down, please,” I tell him. “You’re my sister’s friend. Don’t do this. Sit down and let me walk the fuck out the door.”
    He steps in front of me. I grab an adding machine and knock him on the head. His friends run in. I bang them with the machine. A security guard comes in. I run the fuck away, get on the elevator, and I’m gone. That was my stockbroker experience.
    A couple days later Walter called my sister. “Your brother almost killed me. How could you send that maniac into my office?”
    J UDY : I became so angry when Walter called Jon a “maniac.” I told him, “How dare you call my brother a maniac.” I was overprotective, but Jon was my baby brother.
    J . R .: My Outcast friends got more wacked out on heroin. Petey, Jack Buccino, and Dominic Fiore were needle-in-the-arm junkies. Their minds were gone, but their muscles could still destroy anybody on the street. When they did rip-offs, it wasn’t for fun anymore, it was because they had to.
    My uncle Sam knew something was up. I came around a few times with my Outcast