Inside of an hour, I had four people in four different cities in three different time zones call me about random things while I played online poker and listened to a Tea Leaf Green bootleg. One called while I was in the middle of a conversation while the other two called within minutes of me ending the previous call.
11:04pm... Senor called. I needed him to sign off on a trade that I had arranged for our fantasy team.
"And they want Jamal Lewis for Matt Leinart?" Senor said.
"Yeah," I said. "I don't want to do that. We should be getting something more than a rookie QB."
"Then reject the trade. What did Derek say? I'll do what he says."
"He didn't like it either," I said when I saw that I had another call. It was the Rooster and it was 11:22pm.
"OK, then reject that trade offer and call me tomorrow to let me know if the commissioner approved the trade Brett Favre. Oh and say hello to Nicky for me."
"Yo Pauly. I'm here in a bar with a fan of yours," the Rooster said as I could barely hear him as the sounds of a packed bar echoed in the background. "She's a Jersey girl and she reads your blog."
"Jesus. You called me for this nonsense. Does she have big tits?"
"She's from Jersey."
"OK, but how's her rack?"
"Her name is Carrie."
"Carrie, what does she do?"
"You should she her tits. Their massive. Here she is...."
I heard the transfer of the phone and the Rooster mumbling something.
"Is this Pauly? Tao of Pauly? Oh my God. I love what you are doing over there," she squealed.
"For fuck's sake I hope he's paying you to say that. That Rooster. He's such a playa."
"Don't I know it."
"I think he's a pimp."
"I would agree," she said before she laughed and handed the phone back to the Rooster.
"Dude what's the deal with those suck up city girls," ranted the Rooster, "you know those chicks who go away to Europe and Italy and come back from vacation all snobbish and think they are all cultured and stuff and put down everything American? What's up with that shit?"
"Their definition of culture is banging a couple of Italian guys and letting a dirty Greek guy fuck her in the ass."
"Yeah those Europeans will fuck anything. Yo, my friend Carrie she really reads your blog. She was talking about how that girl broke up with you on your birthday so she could see the pain on your face."
"Er.... thanks for that. I guess. And she broke up with me so that at least once a year, I'd be reminded that many years ago, she broke my heart. That French cuntwhoresnailsnortingtrash."
"Man, that's fucked up. Man chicks are fucking crazy sometimes. It's like when the girl calls you up crying and she says that she has razor blades in her arms. And that she's going to kill herself because of what you said. I dunno man, Pauly Drama you've dated some fucked up women bro."
"New York's the largest insane asylum on the planet," I said. "Hey man, I gotta piss. Talk to you later."
"Definitely. Make sure you say hi to Nicky for me."
Three minutes later while in the middle of a bong hit, my cell rang at 11:31pm.
"You never would guess who were the last two people to call me," I said.
"Um... The Rooster and um... Daddy?" Nicky guessed.
"Half right. Rooster and Senor."
"Awww. How is Senor?"
"He's great but the Rooster made a fan call me. Some Jersey girl with big tits."
"He gets a lot of ass that Rooster?"
"Of course, he's the Rooster. He's got the mojo of Elvis with debonair looks of Ricardo Montalban to back up his suaveness."
"So what happened with that interview with Business Week?"
"They called me to get a quote about the online-gambling legislation."
"And what did you say?"
"I said that Bill Frist was a cat fucker and that I'll be playing on Poker Stars this weekend."
At 12:11am, ninety seconds after my talk with Nicky ended, my cell rang. Again.
"Dude this is the most bizarre thing I'm about to tell you," the Joker said. "I just saw Thomas Dolby perform She Blinded Me With Science at a grand opening gala at a shopping center with an open bar. I'm the drunkest I've ever been and I saw Dolby for free man! It's a who's who of Boulder here. I'm wearing a suit. I've had six Crown and cokes and two beers. And there's some hippie chick in a Subaru in front of me and she's not going on a green light because she's playing with her dog. Only in Boulder."
"Six Crowns? Two beers? Keep up the good work, man!" I added.
"Oh my friend Amy put us down for the String Cheese guest list."
"We're Cheese VIPs?"
"Yes. Yes we are. We're Cheese VIPs."