Originally Posted By: Tyler_Durden

Black street gangs not respecting the mob seems a little farfetched considering their tendency to flock by the dozens to anyone who has any semblance of "rep" on the street.

Guys like Wild Bill Cutolo, Scarpa, Vinny Basciano, Gaspipe, Gotti, Gravano, Joey Merlino etc, could have had themselves an army of gangbangers if they went on a recruitment drive. Why the fuck would they do that though? lol


thats probably one of the biggest exaggerations of the mafia i have ever heard.i agree that theres probably a little respect for them just due to all the well documented history and movies etc i doubt it extends much beyond that.

John gotti assault aside there are a number of examples of street gangs not really giving a fuck about mob guys.

cleveland mob associate mike roman was killed by a gang member.

A luchesse soldier asked for the help of a blood gangmember when an italian was being shaken down by another blood in new jersey.

Lewis Kasman hired a latin king gangmember to assault a mob associate in prison.

Carmine persico got punked in prison once when a black gangmember and his friends sat down and ate at the lunch table that persico usually ate at.

Mob Boss Loses Food Feud

Since 1985, while he's been behind bars at one prison or another, Carmine (Junior) Persico has managed to win a bloody mob war for control of his crime family, maintain a rose garden, and have some fun too, as the pictures below illustrate. But last month the jailed-for-life Colombo boss lost an embarrassing beef over his favored dining room spot that’s still the talk of his prison digs.

The dispute was one you might expect in a maximum security joint, where groups based on ethnicity, or region, carve out their own turf. Think of it like those occasional spats at Rao’s, the famed but tiny 10-table eatery that is favored by wiseguys – as well as politicos and celebrities – in East Harlem where every table is reserved virtually every night of the week, and where tempers sometimes flare about who’s getting a table and who isn’t.

But this one occurred in the mess hall of a relatively laid-back medium security prison in Butner, North Carolina where elderly inmates who need regular medical treatment and/or testing – like Bernie Madoff and the late Vincent (Chin) Gigante – are held. The facility, which has 760 inmates, is one of four in a complex that includes a hospital and houses a total of 3500 convicts.

“It’s the same thing in the synagogue I attend,” said one lawyer who is also familiar with prison protocol. “When someone’s in your row, that’s a problem." (Persico at a rose garden he cultivated in a prison yard at Lompoc in the late 1980s.)

The dispute began when Persico got to the corner table he has been sitting at for five years and saw it was already occupied. It ended with the 77-year-old Mafia boss walking away with juice dripping from his face and three wannabe lunch mates following meekly behind him.

On this particular day, inmate Antonio (T.O.) Stokes, an inner city gangster serving 17 years for the murder of a gambler during the robbery of a dice game in the nation’s capital, and three buddies, were already dining when the Persico crew arrived at the four-man table, according to Gang Land’s eye-and-ear witness. Stokes, 28, has been at Butner for two years, according to a Bureau of Prisons spokesman.

Junior reacted the same way he has whenever another inmate was “sitting at his table” with a window seat that looks out over the prison compound, said Gang Land’s prison source, who gave the following account of what ensued:

“He stood there giving off an aura that said, ‘get up and give me my table,’ and he tried to hurry the D.C. guys” but Stokes wasn’t intimidated, and told Persico: “You can have the table when we finish.”

As an angry Junior sat down at the next table to wait, he may have brushed up against Stokes. Or maybe he didn’t. In any event, T.O. said: “Hey pops, if you’re gonna bump me, say excuse me.”

“I didn’t bump you so I’m not going to say excuse me,” was Persico’s retort.

Stokes calmly stood up, said, “Fuck you then,” and emptied his glass of juice in Junior’s face, adding: “Go find another fucking table.”

If looks could kill, Stokes would be dead now. But a few seconds later, as T.O. and his buddies continued eating, the aging Mafia boss got up and walked out, with his crew of younger and obviously not old-school mobsters, following close behind.

Junior must have laid down the law to his crew, though. One of them manages to get to his table before anyone else does, and after staying away from his table “for a few days,” Gang Land hears Junior is back at his favored corner table with a view.