I had the idea to arrange a dinner between Christophina and Blau with myself as the host in a medieval cavern that I had purchased with monies I made from the sale of my yacht. There were also other guests: a convicted murderer, a self-proclaimed “invert” (it was a mental category of his own invention, having to do with belief in the opposite of what he believed), some barrel boys, a septum specialist, and Morris Guberstein, who is always a wit. The cavern walls sweated coolly. One round table was placed beneath a censorious stalactite. Duck was served, l'orange and otherwise. Neither Christophina nor Blau spoke much. They eyed each other admiringly, each conceding to one of the other guests that they felt as though they were in the presence of a true master. Christophina reportedly gave Blau the ultimate compliment—the murderer asked what was so special about Blau, and Christophina, with a very serious expression, said, “It’s his pulse.” Most of the focus, then, fell to Morris Guberstein, who did voices, told jokes, juggled. He had kept his weight down and looked quite youthful, which led the invert to proclaim that he was a “total bore, really not the life of the party at all.”
©2021 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas
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