“Daddy, I’ve got cider in my ear,” has long been my own personal shorthand for winding up on the losing end of a sucker bet. It was uttered most famously by Marlon Brando in “Guys and Dolls” after his character, Sky Masterson, agreed to terms of a bet that seemed like easy money, only to find out he had been conned. It stems from advice that his father gave him, which was, “One of these days in your travels, a guy is going to show you a brand-new deck of cards on which the seal is not yet broken. Then this guy is going to offer to bet you that he can make the jack of spades jump out of this brand-new deck of cards and squirt cider in your ear. But, son, do not accept this bet, because as sure as you stand there, you're going to wind up with an ear full of cider.”
And until recently, I have been pretty good about
following this advice. I have never fallen for an Internet scam, purchased a
time share, or allowed a stranger in a parking lot to replace my windshield
(Hi, Honey!) – but – the other day I fell victim to a con perpetrated by my
supposed best friend.
It started with her bragging about her book sales. You
see her most recent book, Wife for Hire,
had steadily been climbing the charts all summer (it is presently #2 on Barnes
& Noble Top 100), and she took every opportunity to let me know about it
through email and phone calls.
Of course I was proud of her and excited with her
success…to the extent that having my own
book currently ranked 130,000 in the country would allow. Which frankly, isn’t
much! But, she works a lot harder at it than I do, and is apparently willing to
sleep her way to the top, so I begrudgingly admitted defeat and offered my
sincere congratulations.
But jealous as I was of the fame and fortune that
would soon be coming her way, I took solace in knowing that I was beating her
at something she found even more important. Fantasy Football!
We were going head to head in Week One of our “Family
Style” fantasy league, and my team was beating hers by over 70 points going
into the Sunday Night Game. All she had left was a second half of a struggling Peyton
Manning at QB and the Monday night game with the Ravens defense to make up the
points, while I STILL had a receiver and running back yet to play. And SHE
starts talking smack!
Here are the unedited email exchanges:
From: Christine Bell
To: michael wood
Sent: Sunday, September 9, 2012 8:44 PM
Subject:
859 on BN, 1870 on Amazon, BITCHES!!!!!!
Christine Bell
http://www.christine-bell.com
From: michael wood
To: Christine Bell
Sent: Sunday, September 9, 2012 9:02 PM
Subject: Re:
130.4 to 73.8 on Family Style, BITCH!!!!!
From: Christine Bell
To: michael wood
Sent: Sunday, September 9, 2012 9:05 PM
Subject: Re:
Yeah, except my D hasn't gotten on the field. Ten
bucks I still beat you.
Christine Bell
From: michael wood
To: Christine Bell
Sent: Sunday, September 9, 2012 9:09 PM
Subject: Re:
deal *virtual handshake*
From: Christine Bell
To: michael wood
Sent: Sunday, September 9, 2012 9:13 PM
Subject: Re:
*hocks loogie into palm* *shakes*
Christine Bell
Of course I
couldn’t help but notice the pretentious “signature line” with the web site
link, as well as the cheap shot with the loogie. But what I failed to see was
the potential for an earful of cider. Because there wasn't one! It was a sucker
bet. There was no way I could lose…
And as it
turned out, I didn’t. I won the lousy ten bucks.* But only after suffering
through three hours of torture as the Raven’s D put up HUGE numbers, while I
put up with a constant barrage of texted taunts from Christine. As my huge lead dwindled to a pathetic
3-point advantage, it occurred to me that whatever happened, I couldn’t
possibly win. She had swindled me. Even if my team managed to come out ahead,
they were supposed to win. When we made the bet, I had a 70-point advantage,
which didn’t leave me much room for bragging rights. I couldn’t rightly taunt or tease her for losing when she had
no chance of winning in the first place. But if SHE won, I would never hear the
end of it. Nor would anyone else. For the rest of my life, I would have to
listen to stories about the time she overcame a 70-point deficit to beat me.
All while her book was outselling mine.
For those
looking for a moral to this story, I suggest you reread the first paragraph, as
I can’t do better than Sky Masterson’s daddy. But I CAN do better than
Christine Bell at Fantasy Football!
* Let the record show that as of 10:30 am on Sept. 23rd, 2012, I have yet to receive my winnings. Christine says she's waiting for her royalty check. But here's her reality check - you lost, BITCH!
