NO GUTS...NO GLORY

I was around twenty one years old, madly in love, and as stupid as

ever when I travelled from Streamwood, Illinois to Radnor, Pennsylvania to beg a

billionaire named Walter Annenberg for some of his vast amounts of money. My simple

but blissfully idiotic plan was to sell him on all the wonderful and charitable

things I could do with his money if only he would help me out. Though the whole

pretense of wanting to do good with his money was nothing more than a smokescreen

for the real reason I wanted some of his money, that reason, like many reasons in my

life, being a woman of course.

So

like the perpetual moron I was, I travelled from my grandmother’s semi-beautiful

home town of Streamwood, Illinois all the way to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania by

train, in one of the worst travel experiences I’ve ever had, and asked one of the

local cab drivers, upon arriving, if he could please take me to a nice, but not too

nice, Philadelphia hotel. My plan all along, had been to take a local commuter

train from downtown Philadelphia to Mr. Annenberg’s office, somewhere out in the

Philadelphia suburbs, where I’d promptly begin to beg and plead with Mr. Annenberg

for some of his vast amounts of wealth and fortune. But before I go any further,

would my poor decision making and all around lack of judgment make any sense if I

told you I was a graduate and bi-product of the U.S. public education system? I was

just wondering? Now back to the self-deprecating story. After a few days of

aimlessly wondering around Philadelphia trying to muster up enough courage or

stupidity to do what I came there to do, sort of like what Rocky Balboa did just

before fighting Apollo Creed, I decided to go ahead and get it over with the

following day. The eye of the tiger I repeatedly chanted to myself throughout the

remainder of the day and night...the eye of the tiger.

The

very next morning and just as I had planned the previous night, I anxiously exited

the local commuter train I travelled on and nervously walked towards the building

that supposedly housed Mr. Annenberg’s office where I was somewhat surprised by its

lack of grandiose on the outside as I had imagined it looking more stately and

monumental. This was it I asked myself while scratching my ever itching and flaking

head, what a cheapskate, and like most things in my life, I couldn’t have been more

clueless and wrong. I had no idea, as I approached the main entrance of the

building, just how exceedingly posh and lavish the interior of it was and how the

building was anything but cheap as it exceeded my imagination by far and then some.

The aura alone seemed to reek of unfathomable wealth while the décor, not to be

outdone or upstaged, smacked me upside my head with its left jab of prestige and

right hook of power. Surprisingly, I never even once got stopped by anyone, not

even a security guard while making my way inside the “never judge a book by its

cover” building. I just casually strolled in like I owned the place and gingerly

made my way toward his suite, though I did have to step inside a rather luxurious

hallway bathroom to clean up and compose myself before nervously entering his

office. I knew what I was about to do was insane and illogical but I hadn’t

travelled this far for nothing, what did I have to lose I thought.

Opening the door to Mr. Annenberg’s office was like entering the

Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz. It had the look and appearance of a world I’d

never seen nor experienced before, everything seemed so expensive, grandiose, and

intimidating. Even my skittish and trepid walk from the outer door to the

receptionist’s desk was cushioned every step of the way by a luxurious plush carpet

that served as a constant reminder of just who it was I sought an audience with.

Feeling and acting the part of a fool, as usual for me, I asked the receptionist if

Mr. Annenberg was in to which she looked at me blankly and replied...no. What I

didn’t know at the time was that Mr. Annenberg traveled quite frequently and had

more than one residence. I had no idea if or even when Mr. Annenberg visited his

Foundation’s office so after informing the receptionist of my very brief stay in

town and of the urgency of my message, she kindly invited me to leave my name and

contact information with her before I left. I was too embarrassed to tell her why I

even wanted to see Mr. Annenberg in the first place so all I told her was I wished

to speak with him on a private but urgent matter. Now what I haven’t told you about

myself and Mr. Annenberg was I had previously sent him a handful of unsolicited,

psycho-like audio tapes asking him for millions of dollars months before I

psychotically showed up unannounced at his foundation office. None of them, of

course, ever garnered a response from him or his people.

Minutes after arriving back at my hotel room, depressed and

embarrassed at what I had just done and hoped to do, my hotel room phone wildly and

excitedly began to ring. I was positive it was someone from Mr. Annenberg’s office

or maybe even Mr. Annenberg himself, after all no one else knew where I was staying

at or what my room number was for that matter. This was it I thought to myself,

this was the one phone call that could ultimately change the course and direction of

my life and bring me one step closer towards the only woman I’ve ever loved and

still hoped to marry one day. So as I nervously and clumsily made my way over to

the telephone, all the while trying to think of what I would say to him, my heart

began to beat as steadily and smoothly as a worn out jackhammer when I shakily

reached down to pick up the vibrating telephone and hear what my long awaited fate

had in store for me.

To

my perpetual disappointment and never ending heartbreak, Mr. Annenberg wasn’t on the

other end of the phone line as I had hoped and wished for, rather it was someone

from his office, more specifically, someone from his security team’s detail. The

meathead of a security guard had a very deep and masculine sounding voice and had

asked me if I was Paul to which I replied yes. He then proceeded to tell me in all

of my stunned and scared silence, the only reason they didn’t call the police on me

for sending my earlier audio tapes to Mr. Annenberg’s office was I hadn’t threatened

him directly. He asked me if my only reason for travelling to Philadelphia was to

contact and confront Mr. Annenberg about receiving money. I of course lied to him

and said no. I had travelled to Philadelphia, I innocently proclaimed, to attend my

sister’s wedding, even though I didn’t have a sister, and it just so happened to be

near Mr. Annenberg’s foundation office. I had simply stopped by to thank him for

all of the wonderful and charitable things he had done for society and to ask him

for his advice on how to help others and that was it I said. The baritone sounding

security guy tentatively said alright to my bogus explanation, though I seriously

doubt he believed a drop of what I had to say, and warned me never to attempt to

contact or visit Mr. Annenberg again or else. Plus, I was warned, I was to leave

Philadelphia just as soon as I finished with my personal business, never to return

again, or else he’d call the police on me…or so he threatened.

Once

again and for what seemed like the thousandth time in the last few years, I had

failed to become wealthy or at least financially secure. My dream of becoming rich

and using my newfound money to influence and eventually win the affection of the

only woman I ever loved was lost forever I pathetically pouted to myself. I

couldn’t imagine living my life without her. All I thought about was her suffering

in poverty because of my constant stupidity and endless failures. Why couldn’t I

ever just once, just once, succeed in something? Why was I nothing more than an

ugly, stupid failure?

In

hindsight, I wish I would’ve just cut my losses that night and went to bed early as

I should have done after my disappointing day, but instead, like the knucklehead I

was, I decided to give away my official virginity that night, at least to a woman

that is, by succumbing to my overwhelming bout of depression, among other things,

and paying a complete stranger to have sex with me. It was by far and

singlehandedly, the worst and grossest sexual experience I’ve ever had with a woman

and one I’ll never be able to forget.

God was I stupid.