Posted By:
Booker (tick me off, get shot in t/ass) (98ce2ee1.ipt.aol.com)
Date: Friday October 15 [12:29:31 PM]
10:10am
Damn! Conrad Goetz, a self-made millionaire, had never quite felt this way before. A 40-something Silicon Valley executive, he prides himself in maintaining his physical fitness, both on the inside and out. That is why this experience was so disconcerting. You see, Mr. Goetz was constipated. It had been nearly 72 hours since his last bowel movement, and Conrad was enduring a terrible, bloated feeling, unlike anything else he'd ever experienced. He's sitting on the commode just off the master suite in his 6,000 square foot Napa Valley estate, flipping through the Money & Investing section of today's Wall Street Journal & "trying to get things moving" - unsuccessfully. Very uncomfortable, to say the least.
One thing was for sure though, this was Friday night and his Friday night ritual would go on as scheduled. Every Friday night for the past four years, Conrad Goetz, his wife and another couple (Damon & Priscilla Shaw) had dinner together, promptly at 8:00 at Alioto's Bistro in San Francisco. Shaw and Goetz founded a software company in 1982. That company went public in 1994, and it's the proceeds from that IPO that allow the Goetz's and the Shaw's to live the way they currently live. Conrad Goetz had been ordering, and finishing the 20 ounce Porterhouse Steak at Alioto's every Friday for four years, and constipated or not, he wasn't about to stop now.
3:35pm
Alioto's Executive Sous Chef, Eric Ray is carefully inspecting the main dining room. First the floor, then the tables, with their fine silk table clothes, then the candle fixtures. Even the silverware must pass a "shine test". He manages the restaurant to exacting standards - his customers will accept no less. And this is Friday night, everything must be perfect.
Everything about Alioto's says "money". The least costly item on the dinner menu is a hamburger - ground New York Stip steak, for $22.95, a la carte. Guests are met by tuxedoed valets wearing white gloves. Patron's cars are parked in an adjacent lot. On any given night, the lot is packed with Jaguars, Ferraris, Mercedes (E)Benz's, and the occasional Bugati.
Elegance abounds. From the opulent Monet hanging above the hostess station, to the Louis the Second, fifteenth century décor in the waiting area. Naturally there is a cigar bar, with only the finest Montecristo, Cohiba and Partagas smokes. Churchill cut - of course. An establishment of this sort MUST cater to the latest trends. Even the men's room is staffed by a tuxedoed attendant and fully stocked with colognes and after shave lotions.
The doors open for dinner service at 5:00pm. Eric Ray takes his job seriously, and is taking every precaution to ensure that this evenings guests have an exceptional experience.
7:54pm
EricL has opted to park his car around the corner in a public lot. Sure he's spending free money - but hey, tipping some guy for the privilege of driving a Maxima just doesn't seem right. The Jambytes have an 8:00 reservation, and he instructed the limousine company to have his guests here by 7:45. He is making a fashionably late appearance. Walking out of the lot, he's doing what car guys always do - checking out the wheels. Nothing special, a few Detroit pony cars, a Vette, blah, blah… Then, for some reason, a rather vanilla looking car catches his eye. It's a red Saturn four-door sedan. Hmmm. Nothing special about it, but for some reason he freezes and does a double take on the car.
EricL (thinking to himself): "Where have I seen this car before??? …Oh don't be paranoid! You've seen it everywhere, there's millions of these cars! …Was there one of these at the last Manly Games? …Nah. It's nothing."
He continues toward the restaurant.
8:17pm
Conrad Goetz is getting down right annoyed. He didn't make the trek into San Francisco, pay $500 for dinner, just to have his evening ruined by a bunch of rowdy kids. Unfortunately, that's exactly what is happening. Goetz is seated with his back to the table in the middle of the room. Seated at the center table are members of the Jambytes, and they are yucking it up like it were New Years Eve. The wine & appetizers have been flowing, and the guys are really enjoying themselves. Much to the chagrin of the millionaire and his entourage.
Jambo: "This is a blast! EricL, dude you have to win a bunch of money more often!"
Yes, its amazing how popular a person can become when they're buying everything. Seated at the table with EricL are Jambo, Eben, Bill99GXE, JerryT, JimW, Keven and Russ. And, seated at the head of the table is the guest of honor himself,…The Wizeguy.
(FroMan is at home healing from his latest head injury.)
JimW: "Man, the way that we got over on those idiot MinimumMafia $%!*hole's is just TOO funny! Did you see them falling all over themselves like a bunch of drunken sailors?!"
Eben: "No doubt that was one for the record books. But I'll tell you what, that stinking LorenSC and that no-good Killermove had better be watching their backs!"
Russ: "You said it bro. Man, I've STILL got a welt on my butt the size of New Jersey!"
Bill99GXE (to Wizeguy): "Dude, are you at all concerned that those idiots will figure out that me and JJW95SC were just drinking tea?"
Wizeguy: "Not at all. Those bubbleheads couldn't find their own navels, they'll never figure out how you guys beat 'em. That Woodear is about as sharp as a pound of wet liver. I'm more worried about the effect of sun spots on the growth of mango trees in the lower Amazon."
JerryT: "What about Chad? He seems pretty smart,..I mean, he put together this whole BBS and all."
Eben: "Are you KIDDING me? The imbecile goes to Ohio State!! He's a Buckeye fan for crying out loud!
JerryT: "WHAT?!?! NO!!??"
EricL: "Yup, that's true. The OSU Buckeyes! What a joke. They could move that team from the Big Ten, to the Big One - and they STILL couldn't win it!"
The group falls out and enjoys a good laugh. Ticking the constipated Goetz off all the more.
JimW (to JerryT): "You know, EricL and TanMan checked that tight rope that broke on you - it had been partially cut through. That's wasn't an accident."
JerryT: "What! Really? Who the…. I'll kill…"
Wizeguy: "Remington. That's who."
The group just looks at him.
Wizeguy: "The deal was, I was to run out and get the Jack - which is how I was able to make the switch to iced tea without him knowing - and he was to set up the ropes. If that rope was cut, he'd-a had a perfect chance to do it when I went to the liquor store."
JerryT: 'Why, that little…"
Wizeguy is clearly starting to slur his speech as he's partaking of & enjoying the good life, just a little bit too much.
9:52pm
This is it. This is it! With much struggling, Conrad Goetz has been able to finish his steak and is feeling a rumbling in his lower intestine. Its taken over three days, but the moment is at hand! He politely excuses himself, and makes for the men's room.
9:54pm
Conrad Goetz enters the men's room and spies the attendant.
Goetz: "Times Metro, please."
The attendant smiles and hands him the Metro section of today's New York Times. Goetz presses a five dollar bill into his hand and heads toward the door of one of the solid marble stall. He drops his trousers, takes a seat and begins reading.
9:57pm
Dinner is done, as are about seven bottles of wine, and the group is really whooping it up. They've already belted out a chorus of "For He's The Jolly Good Fellow" for EricL, and are starting one for Wizeguy.
EricL: "Ok, guys! How about a cigar for dessert? Artero Fuentes Double Coronas all the way around - I'm buying!"
Naturally, the free loading crew is in favor of the idea. Wizeguy pipes up:
Wizeguy: "You guys go ahead, I'll meet you there in a minute.
Keven: "Where're you going?"
Wizeguy: "I gotta see a man about a horse! HAA! I gotta shake some dew off the rope!! HAAA!! I gotta walk the one-eye'd lizard!!! HAAA!!!!"
Wizeguy heads to the men's room and walks in, the rest retire to the cigar bar some 50 feet away. Upon entering the men's room, Wizeguy spies the attendant. The two briefly lock eyes, then the attendant quickly turns and looks away. Wizeguy heads to the urinal and begins his business.
10:08pm
Drat! Its been ten minutes and nothing! Conrad Goetz is getting frustrated again. How long can this go on?? Geez!
10:10
Wizeguy has finished and is zipping up. He heads towards the large mirror and begins checking himself out. The attendant still has his back to him. Wizeguy noticed a fine little tart over near the bar in the restaurant & felt sure that she was checking him out in return. Thinking about making his move later, he decides it may be wise to opt for some cologne. He speaks to the attendant -
Wizeguy: "Polo, Eau du Toilet, please."
MaximaLuva spins around and glares at the startled Wizeguy -
MaximaLuva: "You got it…sir!"
He then shoves the drunken and thoroughly confused Wizeguy in the chest. Wizeguy goes toppling over and sprawls across the floor. MaximaLuva places two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly. A second later, members of the MaximaMafia come exploding through the door into the bathroom.
Biomax (to MaximaMike): "Check it." (nodding at the closed stall door)
MaximaMike and Chad head over to the stall door and kick it. It doesn't move. They jointly boot it as hard as they can, the door comes flying open, revealing the unsuspecting Goetz.
MaximaMike: "GET OUT."
Goetz scrambles to his feet and bolts out of the bathroom, his pants still down around his ankles.
MaximaLuva (to Wizeguy): "So, it was Eau du Toilet you wanted - well here you go!"
MaximaLuva, Biomax, Woodear and BryanH grab him up off of the floor and flip Wizeguy upside down. He's now in their grasp, suspended upside down, his head a foot off of the ground. The four mean walk over to the now door-less stall and enter, they lift Wizeguy up and over the lip of the toilet and cram his head into the bowl - completely submersing his head. Wizeguy is in the frigid water, upside down, chin deep. After about 20 seconds under, Chad comes in and hits the flush button. The water begins to swirl around inside the bowl & then get sucked down. The cold toilet water is draining into Wizeguy's nostrils as the powerful vacuum sucks the bowl dry. And industrial strength swirlee if ever there was one.
Once the flush cycle has completed, the Mafia yank Wizeguy out and toss him into the wall. Wizeguy is coughing and gasping. BryanH and Woodear grab his arms, MaximaMike reaches into the back of his trousers and grasps the waistband of his Fruit-of-a-Loom briefs, and then - you guessed it! Biomax takes one side, MaximaMike the other and they yank the waistband of his underwear up to the back of his neck. Wizeguy lets out a yelp as the force of the wedgie hits home.
Woodear: "The next time you're asked to referee an event, I suggest you don't cross the MaximaMafia - Wize@$$!"
Done working him over, Woodear opens the window and motions to the others. They grab Wizeguy and shove him out the tiny window. The window opens into an alley which is used for refuse removal. Wizeguy lands with a thud in an open dumpster.
10:14pm
JimW: "Hey, take a look at that."
The group pauses from enjoying their smokes to look in the direction that JimW is motioning. There, at the hostess station is a man in his underwear, pants down around his ankles, barking and pointing at the hostess. He's irate, screaming something and motioning towards the men's room. Like a lightening bolt, it hits Russ -
Russ: "WIZEGUY!"
The crew gets up and tears toward the men's room. JerryT is leading the pack, he comes around the corner and suddenly someone running the other direction collides with him. The man bounces off of the 295 pound JerryT and hits the floor hard. They are just outside the men's room, the other's enter as JerryT begins apologizing profusely.
JerryT: "Gee, I'm sorry. Are you all right? Here, let me help you up."
JerryT helps the gentleman, up. Once on his feet, JerryT realizes that its MaximaMike! At the same time the rest of the Jambytes come piling out of the men's room.
EricL: "No sign of him."
The six foot five JerryT grabs the five-ten MaximaMike and picks him up. MaximaMike is now looking at the massive man eye-to-eye. MaximaMike's feet are a foot off the ground.
JerryT: "Where is he?!"
MaximaMike is cocky, but he's no fool. He gives up the information.
MaximaMike (pointing to the window): "He's right where he belongs, in the trash."
JerryT tosses him aside. The others rush to the window and see Wizeguy laying in a mound of garbage, his hair and shirt are soaked from the swirlee and his underwear are pulled up around his neck.
Bill99GXE: "How the heck did this happen?"
Keven: "Yeh, what a buzz-kill. But a better question might me, how'd they know we were here?"
JimW: "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Eben: "Yep, its pretty obvious."
Jambo: "I'd have to agree….we've got ourselves a mole."
EricL just can't stop thinking about that Saturn.
** ** ** **
Next week: The Manly Games continue…
Signed by - theBooker, Master of the dramatic; creator/author/editor-in-cheif of the hit series, "As the BBS Turns". Often seen driving a 96 Pebble Beige 5-spd SE.
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