Billionaire Crazy Remembering Ross Perot

He wasn't what I had expected. He seemed shorter than he had appeared during the debates. His handshake could make blood collect in the ends of your fingers. Proudly he pointed out several American western art pieces, obviously favoring those which depicted the loner against all odds. His private office at the end of a series of corridors, had two walls completely covered with the latest in electronics, including the current time in remote countries of the world.
"Ain't it wunnerful. Satellites bring the world instantly into my office. This is where I get a lot of my ideas. You want to keep on top of what's happening."
"You understand how all these different machines work?"
"Hell no. I pay big money for the best in the business, and they keep me ahead of the game."
"But I was told you were an electronics wizard."
"Don't you believe it. On some of this stuff, I'm lucky if I know where the on-off switch is."
"Then how did you make your great wealth?"
"It's amazing. Sales. It was a time anybody could make a pile. That's when computers were just coming out. I gave IBM the best I could, and when it got to the point where my commissions were so high, my bosses paid me in stock options. Eventually, my bosses were working for me."
"But there are thousands of salesmen who are not millionaires."
"Billionaires. I just want you to get your facts straight. I'm a firm believer in facts."
"You realize of course people are saying you're crazy."
"Crazy like a fox. I say let them think whatever they want, as long as I get what I'm after."
"And what is that?"
"Don't you know? Geez I've spent sixty million dollars and you still don't get it."
"Of your own money."
"Look. Sixty million dollars is ten days interest on my investments. And besides if I didn't spend it, the IRS would have its grubby hands on it, and more."
"But what did you get for your sixty million dollars?"
"I'm now inside the heads of at least twenty million folks who voted for me, and millions more who wanted me but lacked the guts to make the right decision."
"So where is this all leading?"
"Hold your horses. You're starting to act like a quarter horse who has been running all night, and put away wet."
"So I'm waiting Mr. Perot."
"Ross. Call me Ross."
"Okay Ross."
"You're going to think I'm crazy like all those other folks...I want Jay Leno's job."
"What!"
"Me and Margo miss Johnny and this guy Leno is not bad, but he's no Johnny."
"You mean all of this spending was about becoming a standup comic?"
"You can't get the money out of your head can you? Then look at what I bought. Sixty million dollars bought me twenty million fans. Now that's not chicken feathers. Cost me only three bucks a head. I'd say that's damn good return on my money."
"But a comic. You want to be a comic?"
"Look. Be honest. Do I have the body to make a career as a male stripper at Chippendales? Hell no. My ears stick out and my ten dollar haircut, and this Texas twang are a natural for the Tonight Show."
I was in shock. A voice inside was saying,"Heeere's Ross". I had to get out of there. The world was waiting for another episode in the life of the crazy billionaire. As we shook hands, he focused his wonky right eye on me.
"You wouldn't happen to be interested in meeting my unmarried daughter would you?"
"Is she crazy too?"
"Like a fox."
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