You Never Know Who You're F'ing With...

original post @ http://scottmartinbrooks.blogspot.com

...whenever we used to make high profile appearances in major cities, we were always joined by the budweiser exec in charge of our campaign, walter allen, and sometimes one or two others. and whenever the bud execs accompanied us to an event, that night they would always take us to dinner at the finest steakhouse restaurant in town. on this particular occasion, we were in indainapolis for the final four. (sidenote; those people REALLY take their college basketball seriously...wow...) so, after the day's festivities, we all get together for dinner. joining us for dinner this evening, as he'd done on a couple of occasions, is espn commentator stuart scott (who is a VERY cool dude, by the way). i don't remember the name of the joint, but, we were seated in one of the semi-private dining areas in the back. at some point during dinner, a fellow and a young boy walk up to the table, obviously a father & son...the dad looked to be in his mid 30's or so, the boy was no more than 10. i was sitting at the end of the table, so, the dad approaches me and says...that one phrase i heard SO often it began to lose all meaning and eventually just seemed ridiculous; "i really hate to bother you, but..." before he can even finish, i SLAM my hand on the table so hard all of the tableware jingles, and i shout; "DAMNNIT! DON'T YOU SEE I'M EATING MY DINNER???!!!" with an exasperated look on face, but not looking directly at them, my head was just turned toward them. they both jump, startled, and the dad immediately apologizes and turns to walk away, clutching his son by the shoulders. i reach out and grab his arm and tell him; "i'm just messin' with you!", with a big smile on my face. (what made it even funnier was; everybody at my table looked up, kinda smiled, but then, went right back to their conversations, because they kinda knew i was messin' with the dude) he lets out a sigh of relief and says; "i thought you were serious, and you're pretty big, i did'nt wanna get my butt kicked!" he tells me that his son is our biggest fan, then tells his son; "go ahead, ask him." the boy was SO CUTE...he was very nervous, gulping and taking deep breaths as he tried to get out his story. his dad helped him out, and explained how the kid held his cell phone up to the TV and recorded our commercial as his outgoing message (yeah, the 10 year old had a cell phone). the boy asked if we would do an actual personal message for his voicemail. i said; "absolutely!" he got one of those grins on his face where he was trying not to grin, know what i mean? he even gave me some direction on how he wanted us to say it, but innocently, humbly, not bratty or presumptuous in the least. as he dialed his voicemail, i turned to the guys and told them to huddle up so we could do a msg. for the kid, to which they happily obliged, as they always did. so, we made him a personalized message for his voicemail, just the way he wanted it, and you could see that he was so stoked he was about to burst. his dad had one of those looks on his face, you could tell he was really happy for his son. the dad said to me; "he is going to be the hero at his school on monday. thank you so much!" i gave him the "oh, pshaw", we shook hands, i said goodbye to junior, and they went back to their table.

...well, it's later, and the meal's over. the guys are having cigars & brandy, i'm eating desert, so, walter asks for the check. the waiter informs him that dinner has been paid for. we all look up with a "huh?" look on our faces. there were 5 of us, it was a 5 star restaurant, and we ate A LOT. (if i remember correctly, it was well over $700) just a little incredulous, and a teeny bit suspicious, walter wants to know who it was that paid. the waiter, for some reason, was reluctant to tell him. walter insisted; "i'm not going to say anything to him, i would just like to know...maybe i'll buy him a bottle of wine or something." the waiter says; "oh, you don't need to do that, this guy can afford it, trust me." undaunted, walter again insists, he wants to know who paid our check, he wants to meet the person and thank them. the waiter, still reluctant, obliges walter's insistence, and walks away...then comes back a minute later with our generous benefactor, who was walking behind the waiter with an embarrassed smile on his face. yup...it was the dad from earlier. we see it's him and we all erupt with a spontaneous; "OOOOH!!! IT'S YOU!!!" he said he did'nt want to make a big deal out of it or anything, he just really appreciated what we did for his son and wanted to return the favor. walter said to him; "dude, that's too much...you have to let me give you something for it..." i said; "yeah, we don't get paid THAT much just do a whassup!" the guy was extremely gracious, refused all of walter's offers, kindly said his goodbyes and excused himself back to his table. we were all stunned. walter asked our waiter; "so, who is he that he's got money like that?" the waiter tells us; "have you guys seen the signs all over town for the big construction company? when you were at the game today, did you see their name all over the stadium? well, that's his family." and i said; "see...you never know who you're f*ckin' with." ...hence the title of this story.

*bonus story: speaking of which... for the superbowl in tampa fl., budweiser had a huge tent set up in the tailgate area, with all kinds of budweiser stuff to do & see. and since we could'nt do any promoting at the game/stadium (because some other major brand had the rights on lockdown), they just had us mingling in the tent before the game. at some point, we took a lunch break (i remember we had'nt eaten and were starving). i had just started coming down with the flu, so i was feeling pretty crappy. i got my plate, found a solitary spot somewhere in a corner, with my back to all the festivities, and sat down to enjoy my lunch in peace. a few bites into my chicken, i feel that ol' familiar tap on my shoulder. i turn and see a dude, with a piece of paper and a sharpie. he says; "i don't mean to bother you, but..." i interrupt him and say, in a very brusk, smartass tone; "yes you do...you totally mean to bother me." the guy paused, thought about it for a couple seconds, then, very matter-of-factly said; "you're right...i do", and held out his paper & sharpie. we both laughed. "at least you're honest!" i said, and happily signed his autograph. he did'nt turn out to be anybody rich or famous, i just thought he was funny.