excuse me, but i could not help overhearing your conversation.
that is all right, we have nothing to hide.
i am a wanderer on this earth, and i have seen many strange things.
i like your purple sash, but i think your black mustache needs a little work.
thank you for your input. my name is iskander, by the way. what are your names?
my name is ulysses s grant, and this is my good friend and boon companion george washington.
i have always wanted a boon companion, but despite my extensive travels i have never been fortunate enough to find one.
i am sorry to hear that. but to get down to serious business, what about our conversation was of such interest to you that you chanced transgressing the bounds of polite social intercourse to comment on it?
i, too, have had dealings with such a person as you describe your friend encountering - a person claiming to be an acquaintance from the dim and distant past, but whom i had reason to doubt was actually so..
that is fascinating. i tell you what - why don’t you take our orders, and while we are waiting for them, you can write down or record your experience and we can consider it while we dine. we are both persons of some importance, but not so important that we can keep the world waiting.
iskander straightened up and adjusted his purple sash, which was beginning to sag a little around his thin waist. i understand.
very well, what would you like today?
i will have the special.
i will have what he’s having.
you are easy to please. i will be back with your orders in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.
ulysses s grant and george washington watched iskander head across the floor to the kitchen door.
it never ends, does it?
don’t start.
i was hoping to end it right here.
i am deathly afraid it may be only beginning.
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