- Category: Opinion
- Written by Jim Dee
(I'd have taken that handle for myself -- "Gangsta Pat" -- but obviously it's already taken. I love the way he's casually flipping the bird. Reminds me of the lyric, "I don't have to say a word, I just flip 'em the bird" from the tune 'Criminal' on Eminem's Marshal Mathers CD. But I digress ... )
A secretary buzzed me this morning and said, "Patrick, I have Robin Cats on the line for you." (I'm sure her name's spelled some other way, but it seems funnier to me spelled like the animal.)
I was in one of those Friday-apathetic moods, so I said, "If it's Robin Cats, then by all means put her ass through" (not knowing, of course, who the hell Robin Cats was). (Also, I didn't really say "ass." But I thought it.)
I picked up the phone with my signature, dry "Patrick speaking."
A professional-sounding dude replied, "Patrick, I have Robin on the line for you."
After a pause, Robin Cats greeted me. (Yes, THE Robin Cats, my friends.) "Mr Hillman?" she said, "I'm Robin Cats with XYZ Investments out of New York. How are you today?"
"Mr. Hillman, what I'd like to do is present you with an idea."
"Yes, I present individuals in the market with well-researched ideas."
"Only ... I'm not 'in' the market, Robin."
"You're not an active investor?"
"Well, thanks for your time. Have a nice day."
New York must be one hell of a boiler room, you know? ... if they're actually calling random businesspeople in MF-ing Pittsburgh. I mean, aren't there 20 million people in the New York metropolitan area?
On the other hand, I'm not upset. I think maybe Robin understood that I'm a playa. So, I can't blame her for calling on Gangsta Pat to score some bling for herself. Plus, maybe she read my last post -- the one about wanting to buy gold.
Speaking of cool cats and gangstaz, today's the birthday of Frank Lloyd Wright. Here's a photo of da man:
FLW is 140 years old today, in fact. And I owe him a big-ass thank-you for the filet mignon he bought me a few years back. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't Frank in person, but it was part of his legacy that bought me the steak, so indirectly ... See, not far from Pittsburgh is the famous Fallingwater home. The people who look after it came to me for marketing advice one time. They offered to take me to Ruth's Chris in exchange for giving them my opinion on one of their marketing ideas. So, I had the filet and the twice-baked potato (a meal my sister-in-law understands to be among my favorite -- thanks C), and the Frank Lloyd Wright folks got to pick my brain for an hour. Perhaps if I didn't wear that sign that says, "Will work for food," I'd be in better financial shape for taking calls from Robin Cats.
Below, are the original comments on this post. Additional comments may be made via Facebook, below.
On June 8, 2007, wrote:
The fact that you can make the statement "Frank Lloyd Wright bought me a steak" and actually back it up is beyond cool. I would love to say "Ernest Hemingway hooked my up with blowjob in Vegas" but cannot substantiate any such claim.
On June 9, 2007, wrote:
I guess you were her Gordon Gecko and she was your Bud Fox.
I think she was hot on you;)
Have a great weekend!
On June 18, 2007, wrote:
I swear to you the other day someone from a company called Yo Cousin called to speak to me.
I have the voice mail to prove it.