The fish eating money runner

Hubby's brother has a very unique way of recollecting things.  And by unique, what I really mean to say is he remembers things...wildly incorrectly.  Slanderously inaccurately.  The man almost turns it into an art form.

There was that time in college when Hubby told him the only thing to eat in his dorm room were Goldfish (as in, Pepperidge Farm).  Over the years this story has somehow evolved into one in which Hubby cooked a live gold fish in the microwave...and ate it. 

For starters, I know for a fact that those guys did not have a pet gold fish.  Pets weren't even allowed at Berklee, for that matter.  And if they were, my husband certainly would not have eaten one.  The boy was eating crackers.  Tiny, fish shaped crackers.  Delightful, cheese flavored, bite-sized treats that his mother lovingly sent him in a care package.  But don't tell my brother-in-law this, because he will declare you are Dead Wrong. 

When Hubby was sixteen he was best man in his brother's wedding.  By the time he arrived at the bachelor party, all of the guys had been drinking for quite a while.  According to his brother, teenaged Hubby came in the door and immediately downed twelve consecutive shots of tequila in under three minutes. 

The truth is, Hubby probably had three shots.  In reality, twelve shots of anything within a three minute time frame would surely leave one...I don't know, dead?  Dying?

But the biggest, most erroneous, distorted, far fetched tale of all came only yesterday.  Hubby's brother is in town and they were having a visit.  As the two brothers walked around Boston looking for the Tall Ships, Hubby's brother turned to him and said, "Remember when you used to run money for people?"

When Hubby just stared at him blankly, his brother continued: "Remember when you worked as a money runner?  And that time when you had to go to LAX Baggage Claim to pick up a black trash bag with a box in it?"

Hubby said the first thing that came to mind: "Um, no?"

"You don't remember being a money runner?  How can you not remember that?  The box in the trash bag that you ended up taking to the Federal Reserve to deposit it?"

My husband worked in a tuxedo store in high school.  In a mall, for crying out loud!  Hubby said as much, in that calm Hubby way of his: "No, I never ran money for people.  I worked in a tuxedo store.  I worked at the mall."  (Which is why he is able to hem my pants, or sew on a button.) 

Not that this job was without its fair share of titillating excitement: he sold tuxes to the likes of Frasier Crane and Mark Summers (of Double Dare and Unwrapped fame, oh my!)  Later he even worked in a tux store owned by Jim Morrison's nephews (I won't lie, I found the latter exceptionally fascinating.)  But run money?  Hubby?  And what the hell does that phrase even mean anyway?

Apparently, when Hubby allegedly handed the woman at the Federal Reserve "the box," she asked him, "Do you know what's inside this box?" and Hubby allegedly answered "No."  She then handed him a check, for three million dollars, that was signed by the President.  He handed her back the check and walked away.

Hubby's brother would not back down.  "How can you not remember that?  I tell that story to EVERYONE!  What, did it happen to one of my other brothers?"  He gave a hearty guffaw.

Oh boy.  Hubby suggested that perhaps his brother had witnessed this scenario in a movie, or had maybe heard it from a friend of a friend.  In any case, it was definitely NOT HIM.  He did not run money, or anything else, for that matter.

They debated back and forth on this for awhile, and eventually Hubby's brother merely chuckled and gave a merry little shrug.  "Oh well.  I tell that story to everybody!" 

And from the look of things, he will surely continue to do so.  Holy fraternal libel.  Oh brother.

Comments

[Sissy]

I'm going to tell this story to everybody! Sooo funny! I always knew Hubby had a sordid past!! HA!

[Amy]

I remember Hubby getting a delivery from Western Union once. I'm pretty sure the story is solid. Definitely a runner, he also works for the CIA - alien division. He once worked a case with Tommy Lee Jones.

[Sissy]

I think his name used to be Jason Bourne but he changed it because some guys were after him. He's so shady!

[Amy]

Slim Shady?

[the odd broad]

Tommy Lee Jones is a nice man. He still sends us post cards from time to time.

[the odd broad]

Hubby's the real slim shady!

[TR]

Wow! I know that I'm months late in adding a post, but that is quite a tale about [hubby's brother + his stories]. My family likes TV and fiction stories, and can make up stories, but they never took a tux delivery guy story and turned it into a [you ran boxes of money to unknown people story].

That is a very creative + vivid imagination. But maybe you didn't want him to make up odd stories like that about real people. Oh Well. :)

Have a Good Day,

TR