The mayor learns to deal with Encore
By JOSH RESNEK
A very well-known gentleman I know from the North End who loves to play cards with the bad boys told me a great Carlo story that went something like this:
“Carlo played for hours one night with my buddies. He ended up owing thousands when he left the card table and headed home. He was pretty grim. Losing at cards is bad. Owing when you leave the table is worse.
“Anyway, before Carlo left the table, one of the bad boys in charge of the game asked him politely: ‘When do I get the money you owe.?’”
“Carlo turned to him and said: ‘Next week. Guaranteed. You know me,’ he added, my buddy told me.
“Yeah, Carlo. That’s what I’m worried about,” my buddy told me the North End guy said to him with a grimace.
“’See you next week Carlo. I’ll be waiting right here. No excuses, Carlo,’” he said, according to my buddy.
Next week came and passed.
No Carlo. No payment.
The fellow in the North End was getting a bit impatient. Mind you, this wasn’t about Encore not paying its in lieu of tax bill to the city even though the payment was guaranteed by the host agreement.
“Where’s my money? “the North End gentleman asked Carlo during a phone call after waiting patiently several weeks, my buddy told me.
Carlo responded adroitly. After all, he is the mayor, a big crap shooter really up on his toes and aware of everything going on in his world.
“Oh. I already paid what I owed you,” Carlo exclaimed, my friend told me.
“Tell me you didn’t get the money,” Carlo demanded.
He tried his best to seem puzzled and amazed at the same time.
“Are you nuts, Carlo,” the North End gentleman said to the mayor with insistence, his voice rising just a bit. “You haven’t been here since you lost all that dough that night. Its been weeks. I want my money, Carlo,” the North End gentlemansaid, my buddy told me.
Carlo hesitated. He composed himself for what came next.
“I gave the dough I owe you to someone else. The guy, who you know, told me he gave it to you – handed it to you and that you took it and counted it, and placed it inside your lapel pock- et. You’re telling me this didn’t happen. If it didn’t, I’m pissed off like you can’t believe. I can’t believe he hasn’t given you the money. Wait til I call him. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind,” Carlo said to the North End gentleman.
The North End gentleman was taken aback, to say the least.
Carlo sounded perturbed. He might as well have been speaking Pakistani as far as the North End gentleman was concerned.
“Let me get this straight right now, Carlo. Are you trying to tell me I need to see someone else about getting the money you owe me? Is this what you’re suggesting?”
“Yeah sure. That’s how we do it in Everett. You know I’m the mayor. We do things right over here,” Carlo said to the North End gentleman, my buddy told me.
“That’s all well and good, Carlo. Maybe that’s the way things are done in Everett. I’m not from Everett. This ain’t Everett. I’m not a bank. I’m not chasin’ someone else for the money you owe me. I want my money,” the North End gentleman shouted at the mayor.
“When do I get my money, Carlo!” he grumbled, his anger rising.
“You don’t understand. This is how it’s done in the big leagues. I know. I’m in the big leagues with the casino guys from Vegas,” Carlo told the gentleman from the North End now quickly losing his mind and growing quite angry.
“For instance, Wynn Resorts has owed the city $10 million since March. We’re supposed to have that money. They have kept promising the money and at one point recently after I had my gopher chief financial officer give them a call, they said I should have known they already paid it.
“I was amazed. I told them I hadn’t heard anything about the money being paid to someone else. Just as you are amazed by the new deal I’m offering you. It is a lesson learned for me which I learned from Wynn Resorts.
“The hire-ups there told my CFO they already paid the money.”
“I asked Demas, where the hell is it? I almost fell over when he gave me the answer.
“Wynn Resorts said they’re paying the money into the State Treasury instead of into the Everett City Treasury. That’s the deal,” the mayor’s CFO said to him, the mayor revealed to the gentleman from the North End.
“I don’t understand what this has to do with me,” the North
End gentleman said to him.
‘Do you think I’m some kind of fruitcake?” he asked the mayor.
“You don’t get it. You’re already paid. You should be happy. I gave the money I owe to someone else. They’re going to give it to you. It’s a guarantee. You should be happy,” Carlo repeated.
“This is exactly what Wynn Resorts has done with the money it owes the city. They gave it to the State Treasury. At least they claim they’re giving it to the State Treasury. Why wouldn’t I believe them? They’re huge businesspeople. They know what they’re doing,” the mayor said, my buddy told me.
“All the city has to do is get it from the State Treasury.” Carlo felt satisfied with himself.
The gentleman from the North End wasn’t impressed.
“I want my money, Carlo. I want what you owe me. I want it right now!” he demanded.
“If these Wynn people owed me money and paid it to someone else and tried to tell me that was a good deal you know what I’d do, Carlo?”
“I’d grab a baseball bat and drive over to their headquarters at the casino and demand payment. That’s what I’d do, Carlo.
“This is exactly what I’m going to do with you if you don’t pay me what you owe me,” Carlo.
“I know you’re the mayor but that don’t mean nuthin’ to me, Carlo.”
“I want my money. I want it from you. You better pay…or else, and you know it.”