My Dinner With Rossaroni

I hadn't seen my friend Rossaroni since the sacking of Kristal Stadt over 15 years ago but he had contacted me via aether-plane wave and I decided to meet him for dinner at the old Delmonico's Restaurant on St. Charles Avenue.

I arrived early and took a seat at the bar and ordered a Tom Collins to relax since I had not seen Rossaroni in many years and didn't know what to expect. I rehearsed a few questions I wanted to ask since asking questions would also make me feel more comfortable but I knew I would have to have several prepared - I'm not good at coming up with questions on the fly.

Time passed and Rossaroni arrived. We were seated a table near a pillar across from the bar. I could hear the noise from the adjacent casino which was not unpleasant but reminded me of the bawk-bawk-bagaaaaaaaaaaawk a yardbird might make.

"What brought you back Rossaroni? Weren't you living in a Lokarian ashram?"

"I came back to discuss matters of fantasy and reality, chaos and non-chaos"

"I'm afraid I don't understand. My life is firmly grounded in reality - stability is what I find"

"No and yes, sadly, that is what I was afraid of. Things rarely go haywire now - remember when I conditioned Turnips to believe he was a chicken and all he could say was cock-a-doodle doo and fight with the tenacity of a beserker?"

"Yes, but we cannot continue to do these sorts of things, I have bills to pay - I used to think about adventures, riding about in mighty seagoing vessels or aboard flying carpets but now I must think about money"

"Perhaps but this habit - and it is a habit you are now operating by is not living"

"Are you suggesting that all I am looking for is comfort?"

"Woody, comfort can lull you into a false sense of security, tranquility can be dangerous. I realized this at the ashram where I was a photographer and surrounded by numerous beautiful women serving me hand and foot."

"Rossaroni, I don't live that way, you can't expect us to give up those comforts that protect us from the bitter cold or broiling heat?"

"Listen Woody, I don't trust them - we should be closer to the abrasive elements of nature"

I took a streetcar home from dinner, looking at the street signs, thinking about the chickens and the ports we had sacked and told Lady Lyme Weoghe all about my dinner with Rossaroni