I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I am beginning to like Marty Zanotti.

I’m serious. Here’s why. The dude calls me on my private cell phone to chat. How he got the number, I don’t know. It’s part of the Zanotti mystique. He wants to know why I’m gunning for him. I explain the only reason he’s particularly interesting to me at the moment is his relationship to Bill Mason, who I consider to be a boob of the highest caliber.

So we talk about his trips to casinos with J. Kevin Kelley, which I reported on earlier this week.

For his part, Zanotti insists these trips were not “junkets” by definition, that he was just having a good time on his own dime and time with a couple close friends. The way he tells it, J. Kay invited himself. Which seems about right, the little mooch.

“He never bought me a drink, even,” says Zanotti. “He never bought me chips. I didn’t need chips, anyway. I’m into slots.”

Man, by the time we were done talking, he had totally disarmed me.

Unlike Mason, this man is not afraid. He’s willing to talk to the press. Willing to take the time. It almost seems like he respects us. Weird.