“Mr. Cain, thank you for sitting down with me.”
“Always have time for the Wall Street Journal. I once wrote a book called From Y’all Street to Wall Street. Did very well in certain charts.”
“Sure. Now, you’re going to be named to the Fed.”
“Which is wild. I’m a pizza man. I know the Fed gets my ingredients to me quickly. They got that tracking number. Love that tracking number. But other than that, I’m a babe in the woods.”
“Mr. Cain, you’re talking about Federal Express. You’re being named to the Federal Reserve.”
“No shit.”
“No.”
“I’ll be hogtied and horsewhipped and any other animal-themed punishments you can think up. The Federal Reserve. Wow. I guess that means I should stop looking for a house in Memphis.”
“Probably.”
“Can we talk about your economic policies?”
“You can’t buy anchovies in bulk. That’s penny wise and pound stinky. Never buy bulk fish. Oh, and make your delivery drivers pay for their hats. You ain’t getting no free hat in Herman Cain’s pizzeria. This is a harsh world, and hats need to be earned.”
“Let’s go a bit more macro. What are your thoughts on monetary policy?”
“You gotta get yourself one of those pens so you can check if bills are counterfeit. Only one thing worse than fake news, and that’s fake money. I will pledge to use my time at the Fed hunting down counterfeiters.”
“That’s not what they do in the slightest.”
“Then I have a new hobby.”
“What about interest rates?”
“It depends on what I’m watching.”
“Not your rate of interest, sir. Lending rates.”
“We need growth.”
“In which sector?”
“Sector Alpha.”
“Oooooookay.”
“Let me tell you something I learned owning a chain of pizza stores: You gotta serve it up hot. That’s the attitude I’ll bring with me to the Fed. Whatever we’re doing over there, we’re gonna serve it up hot.”
“What does that mean?”
“God bless America.”
“He doesn’t seem to be lately.”
he still walks the pineapple & pepperoni besotted wheels of my mind