“What’s wrong? My money’s not green enough for you?” he asked.

“No,” I replied. “I just didn’t want to hit you up again.”

“Well, how much would you like me to put in?” he countered.

“I guess a hundred and fifty thousand would be okay,” I said.

“Too much,” he toyed with me. “I had a rough day in the market.”

“Okay, Meyer,” I replied, taking the bait. “How much do you want to put in?”

“Do you have a coin in your pocket?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Well, take it out and look at it.” Trying to steer the car and examine the coin at the same time, I informed him I was looking at it. “Okay,” he devilishly responded. “Now I want you to flip it. Heads, I’ll give you a hundred thousand for one percent; tails, fifty thousand for half a percent.”

“Meyer,” I reasoned, “do you really expect me to tell you the truth?” I said.

“I know you won’t lie to me,” the sly fox told me.

“Okay, Meyer. Listen, how ’bout we just compromise?”

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll give you seventy-five thousand for three-quarters of a percent. Write it up, send it to me, and I’ll get you the check.”

“Meyer,” I told him, “I don’t know if I’d invest in me.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“I’ve got no balls,” I said, laughing.

“I’d rather do business with someone who sees the downside,” he countered, and the phone clicked off. As I said, Meyer is one of a kind.