WHY is this man howling?
Could he be thinking . . .
A. I just won the lottery! Jobs for everyone!
B. My suit — so fashionable, yet so cheap!
C. My son just lost his no-show job with the state. But why should I mind? Now he gets to sleep late!
D. All of the above.
You guessed it. It’s D. And then some.
State Sen. Pedro Espada Jr. skipped merrily yesterday into his Soundview Health Center in The Bronx in his dark Mercedes, his flashy brown suit with contrasting yellow pinstripes, and a smile that suggested a cat digesting a canary.
A day earlier, his “kid,” Pedro G. Espada, walked away from a sweet $120,000-a-year state job that he could not find, equipped with a computer that he could not log in to, located in a downtown Manhattan building in which no one had ever seen him before.
Now, I hate to call a man a liar, particularly one so unmistakably high on life. But Pops has a dysfunctional relationship with that thing mere mortals refer to as the “truth.”
Fib No. 1: Pedro told me that state Attorney General Andrew Cuomo isn’t conducting an investigation into how the devil a state senator helped land a lucrative job — albeit one where he is not required to do such unpleasant tasks such as getting out of bed — to a man who shares his DNA.
“You guys report there is an investigation. There is no investigation!” Espada shouted — suggesting that there never was one. That’s not true.
Cuomo was looking into Pedro G.’s job as “deputy director of intergovernmental relations,” whatever that is. Yesterday, the AG said quitting was “a legally correct and appropriate decision.”
Bye-bye, Pedro.
Fib No. 2: I’m Pedro the Great.
“When I go to my district, I’m a hero to these folks,” Espada said without a hint of irony.
“The first Hispanic to have a position as the majority leader of the Senate!”
On the street, one disheveled-looking man asked for Pedro’s autograph. I think he thought he was Tom Cruise.
Fib No 3: The “kid” stands on his own two feet.
“Truth is, the kid” — yes, he called his son, who is 35, the kid — “has done an incredible job here [at Soundview Health Center as ‘director of environmental care’] for eight years.”
Espada said he did nothing to help his son get hired in the specially created post with the state Senate.
“There was no influence, no directive, no conspiracy!
“I spoke to him earlier today. He was looking forward to it. He earned that job. He interviewed for that job.”
So. If there was no investigation, and if the kid is so qualified, why not tough it out? Why quit now? And this leads to . . .
Fib No. 4: It’s not me. It’s you.
“He doesn’t want to be a distraction here,” said Pedro.
Then he turned on us, the poor, huddled reporters who waited in the rain to talk to Pedro the Dry.
“You besmirched the character of a person who is not a public official,” he said.
Fib No. 5: Take this job and shove it!
“My son could get a job anywhere,” said Pedro. “He doesn’t have to work for the Senate. My children could get a job anywhere. I also have nine grandchildren!” That’s a lot of jobs.
“Do you know any other politician who has withstood the avalanche of character assassination that I have?”
Let’s see . . . Sarah Palin. Bill Clinton. George W. Bush . . .
But why let facts get in the way of a good story? I asked Pedro why his son was unable to log in to a computer in his supposed state Senate office at 250 Broadway, an event witnessed by a Post reporter.
“I talked to my son. He told me had no problem logging on to his computer. He used his computer yesterday. He communicated with Sen. Schumer’s office.”
At least Pedro G. Espada didn’t need this job.
We didn’t need him either.