Wednesday, November 08, 2006

The Visitor

160a The Visitor

Receptionist: May I help you, sir?

Visitor: Tell Alan that Meyer is here to see him.

R: Do you have an appointment, Mr. Meyer?

V: Meyer, that’s my first name, and no, I don’t, but I think he’ll see me.

R: I’m sorry, but Mr. Hevesi is very busy this afternoon. I can make an appointment for you.

V: (opens jacket to show a glimpse of holster strap) Please just tell him I am here and would like to see him.

The receptionist picks up the phone and speaks quietly into the receiver. In a moment, a gnome-like guy in an Armani suit and two large, similarly attired gentlemen emerge from a doorway.

Armani #1 to the Visitor: Sir, you can’t see the Comptroller without an appointment. We’ve just been through a very busy election campaign and Mr. Hevesi is…

V: Just tell Alan I’m here, please and ask if he’ll see me?

Armani numbers 1 and 3 nod and leave. Armani #2 also shows a glimpse of shoulder holster, then crosses his arms and stares at the Visitor.

The phone rings.

The receptionist picks it up and murmurs again, then puts it down.

R: Mr. Hevesi will see you now.

Armani #3 returns to the reception area and he and Armani #2 accompany the visitor down a corridor and into the Hevesi’s office.

Hevesi: Meyer, you’re looking well, glad you could come in. And so sorry about the delay, you know my door is always open to you.

V (removes a handful of cigars from his brief case, offers them to the Armani Bros. and Hevesi. At the same time, he says: These are from Fidel’s private stock. Alan, send your goons away.

H: Gentlemen, you can wait outside the office if you like.

The Bros. leave the room.

H: Meyer, you ARE looking well.

V (smiles): Not bad for a guy’s been deadski for more than 23 years. That Havana sunshine keeps me tan, but I hate the way it wrinkles my skin.

Now, Alan, what was that question you used to ask about David Bloom until you found out he was Irish?

H: Oh. Yeah. I remember, it was “David, how can a Jew be so stupid?”

(both men chuckle)

V: Yeah. That’s the one. I knew it was one of those news reporters. You know, kid, we Jews are supposed to know how to use money. Look what we have accomplished.

H: A proud heritage, Meyer, even if it’s used as an ethnic slur.

V (moves to within a couple of inches of Hevesi’s face: So, Alan, HOW CAN A JEW BE SO STUPID! You dumb sonofabitch, you get a good job. A really good job. You do it for years and years and years, and then what? You piss away a couple of Gs on some stupid bullshit and you use State money, and then you try to justify it by saying you feared for her safety? Fear for YOUR safety, you moron!

H: Don’t get excited, Meyer, it’s not good for your health.

V: I’m fucking DEAD, you idiot! Do you know what you DID? You almost gave that dumb Schlub Calogen your job.

H: Callaghan.

V: Calogen, Callaghan, whatever.

H: Look, Meyer, we’re both money guys, right? Financial guys? It was just an accounting error. A political mistake.

V: You dummy, you sound like you BELIEVE your own crap. Guys like you don’t last long. Get your act together. We’re still figuring out what to do about you. But believe me, the Boys are not happy.

I'm Wes Richards, my opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.

(c) 2006 WJR

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