4/24/17 quality assurance recording of Defendant Weiner’s phone call to leasing company
[recording commences]
Operator: Bench and Bus Leasing, how may I help you?
Weiner: Just put your fucking boss on lady, I do not have time to monkey around with underlings.
Operator: If you say so, but Mr. Li only speaks Mandarin. Will that be problem?
Weiner: What the [inaudible]? Are you fucking kidding me? Mandawhat? Give me the next guy then, goddamnit!
Operator: It’s just me and him I’m afraid. Is there something that perhaps I can help you with?
Weiner: Well I sure fucking hope so! Do you know where I happen to be standing right now? Well, I’ll tell you. I’m in the fucking park. We have a big problem on our hands! A big fucking problem!
Operator: Sir, are you an existing customer?
Weiner: Who the fuck else calls you?
Operator: Sir, could I have your name, so I can pull up your account?
Weiner: You should already know my name, since I probably paid your salary this year! [pause.] It’s Richard Weiner,
Operator: [choking sound]
Weiner: Esquire!
Operator: I’m sorry Mr. Weiner, I had something in my throat. How can I help you today?
Weiner: Like I said, we have a big problem on our hands here! With the benches!
Operator: [sounds of keyboard clicking] I see you purchased ad space on seventeen benches in Merritt Park. [clicking.] And it looks like the benches were all finished two weeks ago. [clicking.]
Weiner: See! This is what I was talking about! You’re already wasting my time! Do you know how much my time is worth? I can tell you, it’s five-hundred and twenty-five fucking dollars an hour! Do you realize how much money you have already stolen from me here?
Operator: Sir, if I am not mistaken, you called us.
Weiner: Yes, because my benches are ruined! My beautiful benches! Fucking ruined! Aaaahhhhh! [inaudible] [unidentified banging sounds commence]
Operator: Hello, Sir? [inaudible over banging] [banging ends]
Weiner: A Hitler mustache. Those were his exact words. Lady, if you could see me right now—just pretend like you can see me, okay, because I am doing those quote sign things by holding up my fingers. You know. “Hitler.” “Fucking.” “Mustache.” Now let me ask you something—is a Hitler mustache the same as having a dick in your mouth! Is it? Wouldn’t you rather have a Hitler mustache than a fucking dick in your mouth!
Operator: [pause] Is that a question?
Weiner: Lady, your ad man advised me against putting my photo on the bench because someone might put a Hitler mustache on my clean-shaven mug, which is, by the way, one of my main selling points. So I thought about that. I fully fucking considered that advice, and I decided to risk the Hitler mustache, because, really, who, puts Hitler mustaches on people anymore, and this, a supposedly Jewish neighborhood? But one thing he ab-so-fucking-lutely did not warn me about was a penis being drawn pointing into my mouth! And not just one penis. Twelve penises! They even found the bench I pay less for, the one hidden behind the tree, that one was my favorite, I would sit there alone everyday. But no, they got that one too! I’m a sweaty pig right now because I ran to each bench, one by one, each time, hoping to see no penis, and then each time, finding a big, crudely drawn penis, and stuck into my mouth! I’ve already had several clients call me, right there at the bus stop, to complain that it is embarrassing to see their lawyer on the park bench sucking a giant cock, which —did I mention—which cock’s balls entirely obscure the word integrity, which was so critical to this advertising idea. Integrity! Remember that? Integrity?
Operator: Actually, no, I’m not familiar with the design, only the lease on the bench.
Weiner: Well whose fucking responsibility is it then to protect those last five benches? Those little dick-drawers could be waiting in the bushes for me to go!
Operator: [pause] What do you mean— protect them? Like, with a guard?
Weiner: Fucking yes! An armed guard! What the fuck do you think I’m talking about? I want those little dick-drawers shot on sight!
Operator: [inaudible] [muffled sound of laughter]
Weiner: You listen to me, lady! Lady! You listen! You better get a fucking guard out there for those benches so they don’t get mutilated. You hear me. Now I need to go home and get a scrubber, to see if I can get some of the dicks off before the marker dries. But I can’t do that while I watch these last five benches. You know—did I tell you this already?— do you fucking know that I spent every last penny on those seventeen benches! That everyone, including my own whore wife, doubted me! Every last fucking penny! [inaudible yelling] I cannot even afford to have this fixed! I’m fucked! You hear me! I’m fucked! [sobbing sounds commence]
Operator: We are still talking about park benches, right Mr. Weiner?
Weiner: [sobbing sounds end] [inaudible] I tell you what lady. You tell Mr. Li, he better get a fucking guard out there on those benches, okay? Do you think you can fucking handle that? You tell him he better get a guard out there [pauses] or else!
Operator: That sounded like a threat, Mr. Weiner.
Weiner: A threat? I’ll give you a threat lady! [inaudible] You tell him that if he doesn’t get a guard out there, well, well, well I guess I will be forced to take matters into my own hands! [terminates call]
[end of recording]