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Carmine can’t spend money even when he wants to

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I’m madder than the lead singer of AC/DC when he was slipped a lozenge that ruined his patented voice over the fact I can’t buy a box of Pine Bros. on my charge card at Targets without getting wacky phone calls from the credit police demanding to know where I am and what I am buying!

Look, you all know it takes a lot to get the ol’Screecher to reach his short arms way down into his deep pockets to pull out some cash, so you could only imagine how all my credit card companies react the second they see a purchase for $200 get run through.

Now, I don’t know what tips them off, and I can only guess that the group of moths and cloud of dust that emerges from wallet appears in the sky like the “Bat Light,” and those dingbats sound alarms and stop the charges to make sure I don’t die of a heart attack when I get the bill — then sue them for killing me.

But the fact is, sometimes I can’t get to the cash I have stuffed in the mattress under the floorboards in the attic, and I have to use a piece of plastic to buy the things I need to keep me alive — like clothes for Sharon.

And every time I make that same mistake, I end up fielding these calls from people demanding to know if I was, in fact, at the Door Store.

Well here’s a message for you, Sherlock: I’m not!

But apparently, the second I even think of putting something on my charge card some egghead Poindexter can somehow read my mind and start using my card at places even Sharon wouldn’t shop at — and that’s saying something.

Apparently, identity theft has become big business awfully fast, and that is why I’m looking into identity protection posthaste because I don’t want to become another statistic.

And neither should you.

That’s why I’m reminding you to attend this week’s monthly meeting of my very own BWECC!, because the 60th Precinct Crime Prevention and Community Affairs officers will be the guest speakers. They will speak on crime awareness and ways to stop you from becoming a victim, and warn you about current scams that are infiltrating the community! It’s like “Count Floyd’s Scary Stories!” And when you’re done, you can go shopping! BWECC!’s Open Community Meeting is on Thursday, Oct. 23 at the beautiful Harway Terrace Community Room at 7 pm. And if you don’t know where Harway Terrace is, look up!

Now’s the point in the column where I start talking about something that has nothing to with the other thing I was talking about before, being sure to mention the names of people and places I promised to mention when I last spoke to or visited them.

Years ago, before Tornado I, II and now III, when I couldn’t walk the walk that is the fabulous Brooklyn Columbus Day Parade, I was always chauffeured in a red convertible Cadillac by the Classic Antique Car Club that joins the parade every year. That was always great. But now, thanks to Tornado I don’t have to worry about breaking the leaf springs in one of those classic cars, and I can scoot myself past this year’s honorees, including Assemblyman William Colton, Councilman Vincent Gentile, Msgr. Jamie Gigantiello and Bensonhurstn’s best banking friend Regina Scire, the vice president of marketing at Investors Bank — who not only brought her entire staff of officers but came with a magnificent float! Ah, you know I love to write about her and her good works all the time! Congrats Regina!

Of course, I wasn’t alone on my march. I met a lot of old friends, like Anthony Spatola on post at that corner. I’ve know Anthony since he was a young boy and now he’s married and working on continuing the Spatola dynasty. His sister Stefanie has two children, and now Anthony has to catch up.

And what about all those kingpins from the Federation of Italian American Organization whom I’ve know a long, long time: Jack Spatola, Nancy Sottile, Joe Rizzi, Frank Nacarato, Dr. Sudah Patel, Dr. Sal Cumella, Carlo Scissura, Barbara Pascarella, Lina Bennardo, Charlie Candella, Msgr. David Cassato, Lou Massandrea, and spiritual advisor and Corrado J. Manfredi.

My sincerest apologies to all those whom I didn’t mention because I didn’t take notes.

Massandrea, the tango lover who comes to my Wednesday night ballroom dance classes, saw me shivering and went to buy me a cup of coffee and a buttered bagel. He looked at Tornado and bought out an apple for my trusty steed. I quickly pocketed the apple telling Lou, I got Tornado on a diet. You should have seen the dirty look I got — not from Lou, but Tornado!

Screech at you next week!

Read Carmine's screech every Saturday on BrooklynDaily.com. E-mail him at diegovega@aol.com.
Updated 11:48 am, January 16, 2019
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