Kerry Packer was sitting slightly hunched behind the desk in front of me, cigarette smoke curling over his top lip, partially obscuring an eye that contained more than a hint of venom.
"So son," he said. He paused, as if listening for the sound of crackling rice paper as the moisture evaporated from my mouth.
He didn't have to wait long. "Were you born a dickhead or did you become one when I hired you?"
It was years ago when I was editor-in-chief of The Bulletin and Packer was unhappy over something I'd published in his magazine. I eventually replied that I believed I'd been born with such an affliction. He seemed relieved and went on to blow copious amounts of smoke in my direction.
I've told this story many times since, and not just for entertainment value. Like almost everyone except the growing army of smug, all-knowing zealots in this country, I often get the same feeling coming over me – that I'm the dickhead in the room and can't comprehend what everyone else fully understands. And one of the biggest blank-outs for me is trying to understand the almost hysterical opposition to poker machines.
A couple of weeks ago came news that skill-based gaming machines were on their way to Australia. Once again the usual round of tut-tutting ensued as gambling prohibitionists wailed against the insidious growth of these society-destroying contraptions.
Amid all this, Fairfield council called for a ban on more pokies in "high-risk" and "vulnerable" areas such as its own where punters gambled almost 10 per cent of the reported $80 billion NSW punters spend on them a year. In Victoria, heated debate continues as to whether more machines should be allowed in pubs and clubs.
So here's the question from Dickheadville: If you're not capable of resisting the siren song of the pokies, should society turn down its volume for you? We don't do it for alcoholics and problem drinkers – you can buy booze anywhere and at just about any time. And the cost to society of alcohol abuse is vast, even compared to the ruination brought about by pokie addiction. Much the same applies to other vices.
So why do slot machines get such a bad press? Perhaps we need to take a closer look at the language prohibitionists employ in this debate. "High-risk" and "vulnerable" are really just code words for "working class".
Here we get to the heart of the matter. In the paternalistic world of the prohibitionist, some Australians are simply too poor to afford to gamble – and too stupid to know it. So we need to quieten the demons that are leading the poor little dears astray and set them on the path to righteousness. You know, give them a far more innocent hobby.
Here's Ian Warden in The Canberra Times last week: "If I am horrified by the notion of putting banknotes into pokies it's not only because I know that the working classes need every $10 note they've got. It's also because I am so old that I can remember simpler, gentle, more Christian pokies."
You know, those ones that spewed countless coins back at you so you could pay off your mortgage and send the kids to private school, those ones that had none of the hypnotic lights and sounds that handcuff the modern player to them. We all remember them, surely.
The gaming world is built on data and lies and prohibitionists will cite endless statistics to show how the "poor and vulnerable" (dumb, working class schmucks) are preyed upon by the voracious gambling machine proprietors and their tendency to crowd as many machines into the poorer suburbs of our cities.
What they don't tell you are some of the findings from the most recent NSW gambling prevalence survey that found no outstanding link between income and gambling expenditure and that the unemployed are significantly less likely to regularly gamble than the lucky with full-time jobs.
But of all the lies we tell our children from the moment they enter this world, no fib is greater than the one we tell them about Australia – that little Johnny and Mary are blessed to have been born into the most egalitarian society in the world, not those horrid class-based societies you find in India or even the mother country.
Nowhere is this lie greater than in the argument over poker machines. No one would argue that pokie addiction does not have a devastating effect on its junkies and their families. Addicts of any persuasion need sympathy and assistance – if they want it.
But please, let's end this patronising view that only the simple and the helpless – otherwise known as the working class – are vulnerable to gambling machines. As in any debate, there are dickheads aplenty.
Garry Linnell is co-presenter of The Breakfast Show on Talking Lifestyle radio.