Red used to own the Glenmore Tavern, where the Ibis is now. He had an old lady, Miss Toni, deep in her sixties, nice looking Italian woman, a real doll when she was young, tending bar. Her husband, who was on again off again with her, we called “Horsecock Ed—according to the ladies was “hung like a baby’s arm holding an apple” and he used to fuck all of the women around there. He used to cheat on her all the time, but she would always come back to him, so they would make fun of her, saying that was why she came back.
The funny thing is, when his kids got older and would come into the bar people would say to his daughter, “Hey how’s Horsecock doing,” because it was his nickname, the only thing anyone ever called him, except his wife. If we ever run into him we’ll have to ask him if that lead to any therapy.
They had a bunch of kids. When I first got married, Horsecock and Toni’s daughter gave me a dog, looked like a fox with big pointed ears, brindle colored, real bushy tail. He died a couple years ago, a real good dog, really smart.
The guy that owned the Glenmore Tavern, Red Berman, fought Joe Lewis in 44, had great boxing pictures from back in the day. Rick, his son, would have all these pictures on the wall, good fight memorabilia. Red, after he fought Joe Lewis—of course he lost—bought a bar down on West Baltimore Street, a stag bar back then and sold it in the 60s when the blacks started moving in.
Welcome to Harm City, White-Boy
Narco Night Train Kindle Edition
en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Burman