With CBC foisting a new season of Dragons’ Den upon viewers, Frank trusts new in-house millionaire Michael Wekerle will benefit from the increased supervision.
The Difference Capital supremo’s latest misadventure was the write-off of his ultra-rare new $900K Porsche 918 Spyder, which he managed to accidentally set on fire while gassing it up near his Caledon digs.
No injuries, thank heavens, and to his credit, Wek had already clued in to his new corporate obligations, declining interview requests with other media, until he could tell the entirely stupid story to the Corpse.
Wherever the noted bon vivant goes, excitement is sure to follow. Readers will recall that embarrassing lawsuit from Brooks Jansen, valet at the Capital Hotel in Little Rock, Arkansas, who last year sued him for $150,000+, alleging shoulder injuries sustained wrestling the over-refreshed financier on the evening of October 22, 2010.
Attached to the suit was a security incident report recounting Wek’s legendary performance: He’d flown in on a private plane and arrived with a skin-full of top-shelf booze and a fanny pack jammed with cash (as much as $10,000 according to companions), and proceeded to get the party started.
A highlight reel:
– “Dropped his pants to his ankles in the lobby near the foyer”
– “Repeatedly and loudly blew a stadium horn in the lobby”
– “Verbally harassed two female guests by asking a valet in front of the females if the valet had ‘fucked them,’ and then asking the valet to ‘lick their tits.’”
– “Licked the bottom of a female’s shoe, then removed the shoe and licked the bottom of the female’s foot while they were at the entry to Ashley’s and while the woman’s husband was in Ashley’s.”
– “Dropped his pants and underwear in front of guests and employees in the Capital Bar and Grill. At least two guests reported seeing Mr. Wekerle’s genitals.”
All in good fun, until staff threw him out, slurring profanities and threats. It was a bravura showing, and one unlikely to be topped, though one must never underestimate such a talented and persistent exhibitionist.
Wek’s most recent rewriting of tight-assed dress codes went down a few weeks ago at the Annex eye-tie joint Coco Lezzone, where the indefatigable crowd-pleaser allegedly put patrons off their osso bucco with yet another impromptu performance.
If you see Mr. Wekerle’s codpiece, do not attempt to apprehend it by yourself.
Call Frank at the usual numbers.