“He needs cash”
By JOSH RESNEK
With Christmas just around the corner, everyone needs extra cash. This includes our mayor.
I was told by the Blue Suit that the mayor has made several calls to key people asking, telling them they shouldn’t wait until his fundraiser to drop some cash off at the house.
“Put a bunch of Ben Franklins in an envelope. Come to my house. Slip it through the mail slot. No one will see,” I heard the mayor say to someone I don’t know.
“The mayor said it just like that? You’re not lying or exaggerating?” I asked the Blue Suit. After all, I always want to be sure I am receiving truthful information from the Blue Suit
“I can’t believe you are questioning me. I don’t lie,” the Blue Suit said to me. “Please don’t insult me. The boss lies. I don’t,” he answered.
“OK. OK. I’m sorry I doubted you. Did the mayor specify how many Ben Franklins should be placed in the envelope?” I asked.
“He asked for ten. The guy on the other end of the cell said he’d give only five. The mayor threatened the guy, but the guy wouldn’t budge.”
The Blue Suit told me the mayor said he’d send Jerry over to pick up the envelope. That way the guy wouldn’t have come to Everett.
“Alright,” the guy said to the mayor.
“When will Jerry arrive?” he asked the mayor.
“He’s already on his way,” the mayor answered.
The story gets funny right about now,” the Blue Suit said. “How so?” I asked.
“Jerry goes over to the guy’s house. The guy hands Jerry the envelope. Jerry opens it. He counts out five Ben Franklins, nods his head at the guy, puts the Ben Franklin’s back in the envelope, places the envelope in the back pocket of his jeans and he heads to the mansion on Abbott Avenue,” the Blue Suit told me.
The Blue Suit told me that Jerry got a strong feeling about doing this delivery to the mayor the right way, the way the mayor would have done it for Jerry.
“What do you mean, the right way?” I asked.
“Let me explain,” the Blue Suit said to me.
“On his way to Abbot Avenue, Jerry is driving down Elm Street. He pulls his car over. He stops in front of the Elm Street Bakery. He pulls out the envelope from his back pock- et, reopens it, and he takes two Ben Franklins from it. He takes those Ben Franklins and stuffs them into his front pocket. He puts the envelope back into his back pocket. He pulls away from the bakery. He drives up Elm Street. He turns left onto Abbott Avenue.
The Blue Suit continued.
“At the mayor’s house, he parked his car and went to the front door. The mayor was waiting for him. What followed were the hugs and stuff and slaps on the back… you know what I mean… the shows of affection between two close friends.
“Have you got the envelope?” the mayor asked Jerry.
Jerry apparently wanted to speak with the mayor about a couple of smaller matters, but the mayor would have none of it.“Come on, Jerry. I don’t have all day,” the mayor grumbled. “Hold on, Carlo. You just opened the door.”
Jerry reached for the envelope.
He handed it to the mayor.
The mayor ripped it open.
“There’s only $300 in here. The guy said he was sending $500,” the mayor complained. He was upset. Nothing gets him as upset as a reduced cash payment.
Jerry looked at the mayor. He shrugged his shoulders.
“I am giving you exactly what he handed to me,” Jerry said to Carlo.
“That’s it, Carlo. That’s what he gave me to give to you,” he said.
“Are you accusing me of stealing from you, Carlo? Con- sidering the circumstances, you should accept the envelope, thank me for bringing it and be done with it. You are better off than when I stepped inside the house,” Jerry added.
The mayor tried to restrain himself.
“Everything I do for you and you short me. Do you think I was born yesterday?” the mayor said to Jerry.
“Are you threatening me, Carlo? You of all people shouldn’t ever threaten me if you know what I mean.”
Carlo apologized.
“I’m sorry, Jerry. I should have known that guy was going to stiff me. At least I got three C-notes,” the mayor said.
“You need to be nice to me, Carlo. You should be nice to everyone that hands you cash… but you aren’t. What’s wrong with you?” Jerry asked him.
“I need cash, Jerry. You know what it’s like to need cash, don’t you, Jerry? You won’t ever forget you had no cash until I gave you your job. Now you can live like a big shot. You owe me, Jerry. Don’t ever forget it,” the mayor warned.
“Or what?’ Jerry asked rather snidely.
“What are you going to do, Carlo? Fire me? You might as well fire yourself.”
With that, the two close friends and associates in city government bid one another farewell… for the moment.