ONE MAN'S STORY.
As everyone knows, Jay-Dee Jason Davis hosted the World Recruiters Poker Championship in Toronto last Wednesday. And, that morning, Jay-Dee called to make sure I was coming to the game.
-- "No, Jay-Dee, I can't. How can I ridicule these guys if they think I'm their friend?"
-- "Animal, they're coming from far away. Can you imagine how rotten it will seem if the locals don't even say hello? Please. Do it for me."
Of course I agreed, but I planned to get there after the game had begun so that no one would be free to talk to me and all I would have to do is give everyone a wave and say goodbye.
Play was supposed to begin at 8:00 so at about 7:40 I rang the bell. As soon as I went through the door, a big guy in a waiter's uniform patted me down. Then Mrs Dee appeared with a metal detector. "Hey, everybody, this is the Recruiting Animal." announced Jay-Dee. No one believed him.
-- "Hey, Anthony, tell them. This is the Recruiting Animal."
-- "Yeah, that's him." said my pal, "I told you he was nothing special."
Have you ever let down a large group of people? It's not very pleasant. I felt like Jeff Skilling. The worst were Jay-Dee's kids. They followed me around, staring. Finally they pointed their fingers at me and said, "Hey, Daddy, he's not funny." "You're darn right," said a lanky guy (Sean Rehder) who'd been gawking at me since I walked in.
I'd had just about enough already. "Outa my way, String Bean," I said and marched into the kitchen whereupon Jay-Dee's wife, Mishy-Dee, started showing me all of her fancy snacks. "Wait," I said, "I'm a vegetarian". She shot an angry glance at Jay-Dee.
-- "Because of the animals?" she asked.
-- "Well, at first it was for health reasons; now because of the animals."
-- "Do you wear leather shoes?"
-- "Yes".
-- "So we kill cows and you take the left-overs and think you're better than everyone, right? You know what? Help yourself."
And she disappeared. So, I started to pick at some cheese when a guy in a big hat came up to me.
-- "Who do you think you are?" I said, "Kenny Chesney?"
-- "You think you're pretty funny, don't you? I'm Gerry Crispin and I'm from New Jersey. And you know what we do with funny guys there?" He slid his finger across his throat.
-- "Step aside, Gerry," said a tall, dark guy with a five o'clock shadow. "Hey, Animal. I"m Russell Glass."
-- "You hired Jeff Clark!"
-- "Yeah. And he's got a message for you."
I was starting to be glad they'd checked for weapons.
-- "I'll be back in a second," I said."Jay-Dee, can I have something to drink?"
-- "Sure. Come on over here."
As he led me to the drinks table, I said, "Hey, Sumser said some very nice things about you today." Suddenly, the guy beside me stiffened as if he'd been hit by lightning. "John Sumser", he moaned. "Slowly, I turned, step by step, inch by inch...." The next thing I knew his thumbs were on my throat and I was choking to death. "Dave! Dave!" shouted Jay-Dee. "Don't get excited. He's not here." He pulled my attacker away and whispered, "Don't mention Sumser's name around Manaster. It drives him crazy!" "Yeah," I agreed. I wanted to hide in a corner but a guy dressed in black was blocking my way.
-- "My wife doesn't like you," he said.
-- "She can join the club."
-- "She says Bull Doza means bull-shitter. That I'm a bull-shitter."
-- "(Mendozaaaa! Oy vey!) No, no! It means Bulldozer. You know, big machine. Macho. Any woman should be happy to have a bulldozer for a husband. Right?"
-- "Okay," he said. "Here's my card". It had a big heart on it and read, "Don't forget me. El Dave."
I snuck off to sit on the stairs but a tall, raw-boned guy pursued me. He put his hand out and grabbed mine in a vice-like grip while staring me straight in the eye. "I'm Ryan Money", he said. "I'm from Utah. And if you ever mention me in one of your columns again, I'm going to come back here and strangle you with my own two hands." He put out his hand again, shook mine and left.
What next, I wondered. "Don JGo's on his way," announced Jay-Dee. He'd delayed his flight so that he could get a haircut (on the runway) and his advance-men, the waiter and card dealer (who was twice the size of any normal human being), were making sure no one gambled before he arrived.
A few minutes later the door opened and in walked the jobster with his coat draped over his shoulders, Italian-style. (He looked like Justin Timberlake).
"Don JGo, this is the Recruiting Animal," said Jay-Dee. I pointed my finger at him and said, "JGo, why'd you do a posting called "recruiting bloggers" and link to your own site instead of mine?" He looked over to
the dealer and the next thing I knew I was on the front lawn, my coat and hat flying after me. And a minute later, boom! Out came Anthony.
-- "What happened?" I said.
-- "I told Don JGo I wasn't playing and before I could say boo I was out here with you. -- I guess he doesn't like Canadians."
-- "Yeah," I agreed. "I guess not."
I can't say it was a great night. But my initial concerns were shown to be groundless. I didn't make any friends.
