At 7 p.m. on Wednesday, Alfredo Romero Morales’ girlfriend told him she had a premonition that something terrible was going to happen.
“You’re crazy,” Romero replied, dismissing the idea.
Some 2½ hours later, the hardworking bartender was dead.
Romero, 33, a Mexican immigrant, worked at De Marco’s Pizzeria & Restaurant at West Houston and MacDougal streets in Greenwich Village.
Shortly before 9:30 p.m. on Wednesday, David Garvin a patron who apparently had been kicked out twice before, came into the pizzeria.
The ex-Marine and screenwriter wannabe was wearing a fake beard and had gobs of glue on his face.
When Romero saw Garvin, his hands began to shake.
The two talked for a moment and then – for reasons the deranged man took with him to the grave – he man pulled out a semiautomatic handgun and pumped 15 bullets into Romero.
So ended the bartender’s dream of earning enough money so he could buy a house in Mexico one day.
An autopsy showed Romero died of wounds to the torso and the extremities, including the perforation of internal organs.
Romero came to New York 12 years ago from the town of Pueblo. He had worked on a ranch but he made a meager living. So he came to America.
Seven years ago, he returned to Pueblo to find a wife. The woman he chose was Martha Pioquinto, who is now 34. Three years ago, he sent for her.
They lived together in Sunnyside, Queens, settled into a pleasant routine and planned to marry next year.
In the afternoon, they would eat. Romero would leave for De Marco’s at 3:30 p.m. so he could be on time for his 5 p.m. to midnight shift.
Romero worked six days a week, pulling double duties as a bartender and waiter.
He usually made $450 a week in tips. But lately, it had been slow, so his hours were cut and he only made $350.
“We had plans to move to Mexico next year. March, we were thinking. His dreams were to make a little money and buy a house,” Pioquinto, 34, remembered, often breaking down in tears.
“He was always studying English. He wanted to study more and more. He wanted to go to school.”
At 7 p.m. Wednesday, Romero called Pioquinto to see how she was doing.
She had a feeling something terrible was going to happen. She was frightened.
“I told him I felt a premonition. I told him I really felt like crying. I didn’t know why,” Pioquinto recalled.
“He said, ‘Why?’ ”
“I said, ‘I don’t know.’ ”
“He said, ‘You’re crazy. We’ll see each other very soon tonight.’ I told him, ‘God bless you.’ I said, ‘I love you very much. Don’t forget it.’ ”
Those were the last words the couple spoke to each other.
Later that night, a co-worker at the pizzeria called. “You should come down here,” he said.
“Is he hurt?” Pioquinto asked, her anxiety rising. “You should come down here,” the man replied.
“I had something here in my chest – a hope that he would be alive. I was hoping they would be wrong,” the distraught woman said.
But when she got to the restaurant, police told her Romero was dead.
Pioquinto plans to leave New York as soon as she can. “It’s not good,” she said. “I don’t plan to be here very long. The thing I loved most was taken away.”