Now that’s an amusing clip from Mr John Hughes’ fictionalized version of events, but, although it’s not widely known, I was indirectly responsible for concerned friends of a certain young Ferris Bueller hiring that hooker in an attempt to restore his pluck.
It doesn’t happen too often, but I do occasionally meet somebody who doubts my claim to be the real Sausage King of Chicago. When this happens I usually just chuckle and say “Would you like to see my credentials?”
Then I whip it out.
Let me tell you a story. Back in the early 80’s I had just had a meal with my lovely wife at our favorite restaurant, Chez Quis. We were waiting outside for the valet to bring our car. The driver was new, sporting a ridiculous spiky hairstyle, constantly sneezing and wiping his nose on his sleeve, and really was quite the imbecile to boot. Anyhow, he kept bringing us the wrong damn automobile.