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It’s 10:15 in the evening and I’m sitting at home writing this very article. The editor has been on my case for over a week now because I am super-late. This is the final hour. If he does not have this on his email before 9 a.m. NY time tomorrow, you can say adios to Poker Like a Rockstar for this issue. If you’re reading this, then you know I made the 9 a.m. deadline. It’s a bit tuff because the WSOP starts in two days and I made a bet which basically means I cannot go out and party at all for the entire duration of the Series. This is my LAST night to go out and get crazy. What to do what to do … write? Or … go out to LURE (the new hotspot on Wednesday nights), get a table, bottle of Goose, booze it up and flirt with the honeys? Hmm … what to do, what to do???
About a week ago, I stopped by NY Lofts (the company doing the interior of my house) to see my interior decorator, Ben. Let me tell you, I thought I was a good salesman, but soon after meeting Ben I realized I was peanuts. After a few meetings we agreed upon a deal, and somehow, even after I realized how much I was spending, I felt good about it. Let me tell you, NOBODY should feel good about paying what I got whacked for! Although I do have to say it was well worth it. Top notch furniture and very elegant design.
I was at his showroom in a meeting, discussing a few minor details on the new furniture to come, and something rather embarrassing took place. I cannot believe I am actually writing about this, but what the heck. What’s the worst that can happen!? So … it’s me, Ben, his assistant Krupa (an attractive, driven young 25-year-old decorator) and Scooby (my new roommate that just moved here from NY — btw, this guy is a MACHINE with the ladies … never in my life have I ever seen anyone with as much guts as Scooby … ANY girl, ANY place … I point and he just goes right up to her — doesn’t matter if it’s in a grocery store or at the gym. NO shame whatsoever. To top it off, if you knew his actual success rate, you would flip out. He is one serious CLOSER!) As Ben was showing me a catalog, I had a funny sensation in my bum. Yes, ladies and gents, I had to fart. And so I did … and what I thought would be a silent drifter was actually an INCREDIBLY loud stump onto the wooden chair. There was no hiding it. There was no denying it. It was clear as day. It was me who was guilty. My only shot was to try and blame Scoob but there was no way I would have succeeded. Ben (being the professional that he is) tried to hold in the laughter, but that lasted about a whole half a second. He and Scoob started laughing hysterically and, since they were losing it, I, too, lost it. Even Krupa the proper female in the group couldn’t help herself, and she, too, joined in on the parade. Not nearly as hard as the men, but she did chuckle. I was super embarrassed, but hey, when you gotta go you gotta go.
After leaving NY Lofts, Scoob and I went out for a bite. As we drove off, we saw an Outback steakhouse. Perfect. We pulled up, parked, and headed towards the entrance. Midway, I realized that I did not have my money on me. No big deal; I was with Scoob so we were good to go — EXCEPT for the mere bad beat of Scoob not having his wallet either. There we were, standing in the outback steakhouse parking lot, STARVING, not having more than 5 bucks between us. I was in no mood to drive home and come back. When I’m hungry, I’m HUNGRY. Scoob and I decided to just go ahead and eat. What’s the worst that can happen? Let’s just go in, sit down and order up like any other normal time. We will just act surprised and dumbfounded that we have no money on us when the check arrives. What’s the worst they can do? So that is exactly what we did. We walked into Outback, got a table and ate away. It was a rather interesting dining experience, sitting there knowing that we had no money to pay for the food. We skipped dessert and got right to the check. Check please…lol.
Check comes. Scoob and I do the whole reach around for the wallet…oh, oh, no wallet and act all dumbfounded and clueless as to why we have no money on us, and we try to do this in a fashion so the bartender can see what’s going on. I can see she is starting to take notice of our very confused faces. I ask her over and say, “So sorry, but neither one of us has our wallet.”
She calls the manager over (btw, my intention was always, at all times, to pay — maybe not that night, but at some point I was going to get the money to them). The manager was pretty cool about it; however, he seemed a little uneasy about the situation. He explained that our only option was to leave collateral. Being the kind of person who cannot take no for an answer, I tried to persuade him to just let us go and I would come back with the money (which, btw, was a whopping $70!), but this guy would not budge. Scooby asked him if he knew any of his employees played poker. He said yes, and Scoob asked to bring him out. This guy came up, and he started to chuckle when he saw me. The manager asked if he knew me. He said, “No … well, not personally, but YES!
I said, “Kid, can you vouch for me?” His reply was classic: “How about I just pay your check out of my pocket and you pay me back whenever? I’m pretty sure you’re good for it! We all had a good laugh and they let us go (collateral free, I might add). He got paid back about two hours later.
Moral of the story: If you are about to dine out and realize you don’t have the money … don’t worry about it. Just eat and figure the rest out later.
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