Worse Than Gangsters

Location: O'Hare Airport, Chicago, IL

Look at this guy. He's not a gangster. He's not an entertainer. He's not even an agent or manager. No, he's lower than that. He's an attorney. More importantly, he's my attorney. Everyone needs a legal witch doctor now and then and The Chairman's no exception. In fact, because of my status in the world, I need them more than I need air to breathe.

Don't get me wrong. I like Mickey, in small doses that is. He's one of the toughest lawyers (or "liars" as their known in my circle) and he knows how to bend the law like a carnival pretzel. He got my kid out of a jam more than once too, so I gotta' happy spot in the old ticker for him.

The thing with any lawyer (Mickey as well), is that they're like cops. You never want 'em around unless you absolutely need them. I mean, they never call to tell you everything's A-Ok, ya' know. So I'm at O'hare, refueling the new Sikorsky (hybrid my ass) and there he is, right on the helipad. I don't know how these guys can find you, but they can.

We shake hands and do the Hollywood hug thing and then I ask, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing Frank. Why do you always ask me that whenever I see you?"

"Why do you always show up when the plague is upon us?"

He laughs, "Well, acutally Frank..."

"Ah here it comes, see what the fuck I mean?"

"It's not too bad Frank, really. I just need to find out your schedule."

"Schedule? What schedule? You know I don't keep one."

"Well the Nevada gaming commission wants a hearing."

"What? Again? Jesus, I'm starting to think they're just cheap bastards and don't want to buy tickets to see me."

"Well they want you to reapply for a license."

"I gotta' license."

"Well you had one, but then you 'went away' and to them, when you went, so did your license."

"Ah, fuck you gotta' be kiddin' me."

"I wish I was, Frank, but there's no way around it. If you want to start owning casinos again, you gotta' play ball with 'em. Look, I can put this off until after the first of the year if you want. It'd work better for me too since I'm dealing with the Copperfield thing."

"What Copperfield thing? Someone actually doing another Dickens movie?"

"No, David Copperfield"

"Yeah, that's what I mean Mick, the Dicken's novel."

"No, the magician. He's being investigated for rape."

"He raped a guy? Jeezuz, what a sick fuck."

"No, no, some woman from Seattle."

"A dame? I thought he was gay."

"He is."

"You lost me Mick..."

"It was a stupid stunt he pulled while he was touring the Bahamas or something. It all went wrong. Figured it would boost his rep and get rid of the gay rumor thing."

"I didn't think it was a rumor."

"Well, he's confused."

"I'll say boy."

"Anyway, if you want, it'd be great to put the commission off until the end of January. I'll line up the paperwork and we'll do a rehearsal after the new year."

"Good-o. Just get me through it fast, alright. I'm on a schedule."

"I thought you didn't have a schedule," Mickey joked back.

"You prick ya'," I said laughing. "Get your own stage pally."

"Hey, you haven't heard from Barbara, have you."

I went white as a ghost, "No, why?"

"No reason, just askin'."

"Mick..."

"Don't worry about it, really."

"Mick, whenever you say don't worry, I start worrying."

"Look, I told you Frank, if you don't hear from her by your 'walk' date next year, you're in the clear, no worries, alright? She ain't that bright Frank, so don't worry about it. I'll handle it. I got things lined up if she ever wises up... which she wont, ok?" Then he changed subjects and motioned to Tiny. "Who's the new muscle?"

"Oh, that's Jilly's cuz, Tiny. He's filling in for Jill for a couple of days. You got anything else?"

"Nah, that's it Frank."

"Fine, then scram before you bill me for another quarter hour."

We laughed, shook hands and then he headed back to the terminal.

Like I said, he's not a gangster. He doesn't need to be. He doesn't even pack heat either. Again, he doesn't need it. That little meeting probably cost me about 10 large. The cost of being Sinatra I guess.