An evening with John Howard

At a local Dymocks bookstore they will often have book signings. Days where for a few hours or so someone who has written a book will turn up and sit at a table and sign copies of said book. Most of the time it is Australian authors that nobody really knows. Sometimes it's ex-rugby league players or other retired sport folks. These signings are always advertised with sheets of white A4 paper featuring the date and time of the signing stuck up on the bookstore window, usually alongside a book display.

One day I was walking by the bookstore and I spotted some of the familiar posters, this time sitting next to copies of the book Lazarus Rising, the autobiography of former Australian prime minister John Howard. I got real excited at the prospect of John Howard hanging out at this bookstore signing books and having a laugh with some Central Coast folk. I rushed over to the store window to check it out. Upon further investigation though I found out that he would not infact be at the bookstore, and instead a dinner had been organised at a local yacht club.

Throughout the week I kept thinking about John Howard and how I would still like to meet him. I called up the bookstore to ask about the advertised event and found out that tickets to the dinner were $100 each, with proceeds going to some charity. I thought that sounded like a lot of money just to meet John Howard, but I still felt like it was something I needed to do. And it was for a good cause. I don't know what the cause was, but it had to be something good. I got the phone number of the people putting on the event, and called them up to book a ticket.

On the night of the event I turned up at the yacht club, and realised that everybody else in attendance was extremely old. There was nobody there under the age of sixty. I went up to the bar and ordered a drink, and then proceeded to await the big arrival.

After a couple more drinks a bloke gets up on stage and starts talking Howard up a bit. Reading through all of his achievements and dropping in the occasional good natured quip. He leads up to eventually pointing at the door (that was now lit up by a spotlight), welcoming the one and only John Howard. Right at that moment John and his wife bust through the door! The crowd is roaring! John has a massive grin on his face as he's shaking hands with his all of his adoring, mostly elderly fans.

I walk up to John Howard and start shaking his hand. "Mr Howard, it is an honour to meet you!" I say. "Well thank you! And what's your name?" John asks me. "My name is Matt!" I respond. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Matt!" John says enthusiastically. "I just wanted to say that Lazarus Rising was one the best books I have ever read!" I tell John. "Oh, that's great! That's very nice of you to say! Thank you very much!" John says appreciating the complement. "Yeah, it was just a really good book..." I continue. At this point I lean down and in a heavy Eastern European accent loudly whisper directly into John's ear "...for me to poop on!"

Right at that moment John got super angry. "WHAT?" he yells at me, with a complete look of disgust on his face. "What's wrong?" I ask him with a big smile in a calm and pleasant tone. "What did you just say? Don't be so bloody stupid!" John is going off his nut. "You're a complete idiot, mate! A complete idiot!" John continues yelling at me and I can't get a word in. "Security!" At this point two of his security guards grab me and ask me to leave. I was asking them what I had done wrong, and why I was being removed from the event, but they just keep telling me over and over that it was time to leave. I tried arguing the fact that I had paid $100 to attend the function and that I wanted my meal. They said that wasn't possible. I started demanding that my three course meal be put into a doggy bag(s) if I wasn't allowed to stay but they refused, still saying nothing except "Sir, you need to leave!" over and over.

When we got out side the security guards were trying to intimidate me. They kept patting me down and asking if I had any weapons on me. When they realised that I actually posed no threat they started asking me what had happened and what I had done. I told them that I had done nothing, that John Howard made it all up and is just causing trouble and being a baby. They claimed that John was very upset and that I must have done something. I said that they were wrong, and that John Howard is basically a psycho. I tried once again to get my meal that was rightfully mine, but they said if I didn't leave the police would be called. So I went home and made a sandwich.

John Howard... you owe me dinner.