On January 6, 2014, Tony Podesta sighed, “[I] may have to go to Somalia.” John Podesta’s devilish eyes slung back into his head, “Somalia? Geez.” The two brothers were trying to agree on a meeting date for dinner. Tony, the ever anxious one, springs forth his loving wishes, “Would love to get a pizza for an hour.”
Pizza for an hour! Ticktock of 60 minutes with a pizza!
On March 3, 2016, Tony is anxious again and from his home in D.C., the place his brother, John, also has a home, Tony writes John, detailing potential plans for the evening, “Re: 815 dinner at Marta.” To insure John understood the plans, Tony added, “29 St between Park and Madison right around corner Let me know Or I could bring a pizza home (sic).”
Tony and John were to meet at Marta’s and if not, Tony would bring the pizza home to John. Would it be for an hour with said pizza? Or could John take his time? Maybe it would take John only 30 minutes; maybe 15 minutes. Ticktock of the ticktock with pizza.
There’s one problem. It’s late in the evening, and John and Tony are at home in Washington D.C. and Marta’s is in New York City, some four hours away. And, 29th Street between Park and Madison is also in New York City. John and Tony were never going to Marta’s that evening – it was a coded conversation.
Verifying the address in the email ferrets out the coded con instead of focusing only on the conversation related to the pizza. The ticktock of the ticktock with pizza is maddening and senseless. The pizza that Tony was going to bring home to John, wasn’t pizza.