"But your business failed." The committee chair repeated. "How can we give you the award for entrepreneur of the year?"

I answered back. "I should have won it five years ago. But every year you had an excuse. First, you were being pressured by the Small Business Association to give it to some newly under-represented group, or Mr. Super-Rich's son finally did something worthwhile and you just had to honor him.

"And yet, I waited patiently. I went to every dinner, even bought an entire table to show my support, and sat through boring acceptance speeches. (Mine of course will be brilliant, witty and memorable.)

"And you promised, this year, it was my turn to win." I said

"But your business failed," The chair responded; he was on auto-pilot. "You closed your doors last month."

"For the record, it did not fail. For 14 out of 15 years I ran a very successful company, employing three dozen people who were able to pay their mortgages, and get their kids through college.

"Once the economy bounces back I'll start up again." I said. "Investors are always looking for serial entrepreneurs like me. I have the experience they crave.""Hesh, I agree," He said. "And we will honor you when you build your next successful venture. You'll get the award you so rightfully deserve."

"No, I want it this year. I've already earned it." I said."Hesh, you are so stubborn, let me ask the other members of the awards committee," he suggested.

I knew he was stalling. The award was named after his dad. He could push anything through the committee that he wanted. "Hesh please, we will be the butt of jokes nationally." He said, "I could see us on the front page of the Wall St. Journal as the most screwball award of the year."

I asked, "If I were hit by a truck and died instead of having to close my business, would I have received the award posthumously? (He nodded) So you are telling me; alive, I am a flop; but dead I am a great attraction." Now I was yelling.

I went home to cool off. My wife told me to forget about it. I did, or at least I thought I did, until the annual awards banquet. This year as a protest I did not buy an entire table (the truth is I couldn't afford it). Instead I just took my wife. She asked me to behave myself and not embarrass her. I promised (and I lied).

The awards committee chair got up to introduce the award winner. My wife put her hand on my knee to ensure that I would not jump up. To her surprise and mine I applauded appropriately as the person received his award. Well, the truth is I had nothing against him. Let him take his lovely statuette home.

The chair stopped by my table and thanked me for attending and promised to nominate me once I opened a new business.

I nodded. I really did not want to say anything, I was afraid I would just blow up at him. And then the next thing I know, I was screaming. "It's mine, it's mine, I deserve it."

I then ran up to the dais, grabbed the statuette from the award winner and ran out the door. The committee chair started chasing me, followed by my wife and the current winner.

I threw a five dollar bill at the parking attendant at the door and jumped into my car ( I always made sure my car is waiting in front. I never want to wait). And I drove off.

As I turned the corner, I was faced with an 18 wheeler backing up. I slammed on my brakes. The airbag blasted open, I was out for a second and then I woke up.

I was in bed holding on to the reading lamp screaming, "It's mine, it's mine."
My wife rolled over and calmly said "OK, Hesh, it's yours. Are you having your usual nightmare?"

Yes." I answered. She offered to get me some hot milk. I dozed off..... "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to thank you for this award. I have waited far too long and I really deserve it."

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