“So, gentlemen, what brings you here? How can I help you?” I asked.
They looked at each other curiously, and then the first guy, John, said, “Sir? We were told you had asked to see us.”
I must have looked dumbfounded to them. “I asked to see you? Are you sure about that?”
They looked at each other again. “Yes, sir. Your chief of staff asked for a meeting.”
I ground my teeth for a moment. “Can I assume he intimated a campaign contribution would be involved?”
Adrianowicz nodded and said, “You may assume so. We were surprised at that, since you aren’t on any committees or subcommittees involving the oil business. Still, it doesn’t hurt to make friends in this town.”
Damn, but that guy looked familiar, but I shrugged it off. “I’m having some growing pains with my chief of staff. Last week I had a meeting with the Clean Coal Initiative, which I did have some interest in, through the Subcommittee for Technology and Innovation. Maybe he thought I needed input on other fuels as well.” I tried to put a good face on it. Chuck must be going through the D.C. phone book selling me off to everybody.
“So you weren’t actually reaching out to touch our wallets?” asked John, smiling.
I returned the smile. “Fellows, I’m as interested in campaign contributions as the next politician, but you’ll be wasting your money. I have about zero influence over the oil business.”
“That is refreshingly honest, Congressman,” commented Morton.
I just held my hands up in wry agreement. Then I looked at him closer. “Have we ever met before? You look awfully familiar, but I can’t say as I’ve ever met a Morton Adrianowicz before.”
“The name is Martin Adrianopolis,” he replied, which made me really scratch my head. That name sounded familiar! “You, too, for that matter. I knew a Carl Buckman back in college, but he was a math major and going into the Army.”
I sat bolt upright at that. “I knew a Marty Adrianopolis, back when I was at RPI, as a math major and ROTC cadet.” This guy looked familiar, but a different haircut and thirty extra pounds changed the line of his face.
His face broke out into a huge grin. “It is you! I thought it might be, but Carl and Buckman aren’t the most unusual names, and your background history was that you were a investment banker before you ran for office. Holy crap! It is you, isn’t it!?”
“Well, by God, it’s good to see you again! We have to talk!” I looked back over at Talbot, and said, “Well, it wasn’t a wasted trip after all! Did you come over with him, or vice versa?”
“Marty came with me.”
“Marty, stick around. We are going to have a few drinks and go out to dinner. Okay?” I asked him.
He smiled. “We will discuss the ways in which the Maryland Ninth and the petroleum industry can help each other. Think of all the billable hours!”
“Oh, God, don’t tell me you became a lawyer!” I said. He laughed at that.
I stood up and so did John Talbot. “Mister Talbot, I really want to apologize for getting you over here like this. I’ll be discussing it with my chief of staff, but I do apologize.”
“Please Congressman, these sorts of things happen. Don’t worry about it. Maybe we’ll both get lucky and you’ll end up on Energy and Commerce, or Natural Resources, and you can owe me a meeting then.”
“Maybe so.” I showed him to the door, and ushered him out
Chuck came up and glanced into my office, where Marty was still lounging on my couch. “Congressman, you have another meeting in ten minutes.”
“Nobody put anything on my calendar, Chuck,” I told him. “Therefore I don’t have another meeting.”
“But Congressman, we have you scheduled!” he insisted.
“Chuck, let me give you a hint. It’s my life so I get to make the schedules. Unless it’s the President of the United States or my wife, I’m not available. I will consider something from either the Speaker of the House, or Michel or Gingrich, but tell them you’ll have to ask me first. Understand?”
“Congressman?!”
I left him standing there in confusion in the lobby, with a couple of secretaries staring at him and another smirking. I went back into my office and closed the door. “What an asshole!” I said quietly, as much to myself as to Marty.
“Problems?” he asked.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” I went over to a bookcase-hutch against one wall. I tugged on it and it unfolded into a hidden wet bar. “It must be five o’clock somewhere.”
Marty stood up and grinned. “Scotch and soda if you have it.”
“I have it, but I can’t stand Scotch, so I don’t know if it’s any good.” I held up a bottle. “Glenlivet. Any good?”
“It’ll do,” he said with a smile.
I made a couple of drinks, Scotch and soda for him and a Seven and Seven for myself. I handed him his drink. “Here’s to knowledge and thoroughness.”
“Oh, Christ! Was that a long time ago!” ‘Knowledge and Thoroughness’ is the Rensselaer motto.
We sat back down around the coffee table. “So, what the hell are you doing in Washington?” I demanded.
“I could ask you the same question! The last I remembered, you were a math major working on your doctorate and going through ROTC training. I always figured you’d end up teaching somewhere. How the hell does that translate into billionaire investor and Congressman?” he asked.
“Yeah? The last I remember of you was when you moved to Houston, to work for Exxon at a refinery. You were a chemical engineer, right? Then, a year later, we all lost track of you, and now you’re a lobbyist? What gives? You first!”
“Well, that’s right, I went to Houston to work for Exxon at one of their refineries. Not quite a year later, though, I had an opportunity to go to Saudi Arabia and work for Aramco, at one of their refineries. Big money, and I had just gotten married to a woman with expensive tastes. That would have been, let me think, late ’76 or so. Anyway, I worked over there for about five years, got divorced, came back home, and ended up back in Houston.”
“Right back where you started from.”
“That’s what I said! I didn’t just want to spend the rest of my life in a refinery, waiting for something to blow up, or getting cancer from some shit. I went to law school, and ended up here, junior lawyer in a lobbying firm. Money’s better, too.”
“You ever remarry?” I asked.
“I am a firm believer in the sacred rite of marriage. And divorce, now that I think about it. I married a second time and got divorced from her, too.”
“You’re just a sorry ass to have to live with.”
“You’d be an expert on being a sorry ass. What about you? The last I remember, you were banging that little brunette with the nice tits.”
“That would be my beloved wife and the mother of my children you’re talking about,” I answered.
“And the tits?” he said, laughing.
“Even nicer!” We laughed loud and long at that.
“Good for you! So, how the hell did you ever end up in this shithole? I used to think you had principles!”
“Really? A Kegger with principles? Hard to even imagine!” I replied.
“Come on, give!”
I gave an elaborate sigh. “Remember the Grateful Dead, and that line about what a long, strange trip it’s been? That would be my life!” I got up and made us another round of drinks, and then brought them back over. Marty was still sitting there waiting for an explanation. “Okay, when last you saw me, I was still at the ‘Tute, working on my math degrees and dating Marilyn and planning to go into the Army.” Marty nodded and agreed with this.