Chicago 1981: I was twenty-one years old, and had just gotten out of the Army. I was married and had two kids already, so I needed to make some good money. I got a job at Majestic Towing- they had two tow trucks and an auto body shop. It was here that I’d learn how to be a chaser.
Day one: George Mawson was sitting behind a beat-up desk piled high with a mess of papers, and barely room for his ashtray. “Come on in Ken, welcome to tow truck hustling. I’m gonna show you your new boss.”
In walked Gary Basso. He was a big fat guy with glasses. He stepped behind another cluttered desk, sat down and put his feet on the corner that had enough room. He took a drag off a cigar, looked at it, and asked in a strong Chicago accent, “Do you know how to hustle?” Read the rest of this entry »
