Sophisticated living

Installment deux of an infrequent chronicle.

Few things are more sophisticated than leafy greens and gravy, and after the lady-lawyer polished off a plate of elite cheese fries, nothing remained but a large leaf of lettuce, soaked in grease and dusted with flakes of batter.

"I'll give you five dollars if you eat that," I said to Flop, my highly prestigious co-blogger.

And so he did. He folded the large leaf of greasy lettuce, savoring it in a single helping. I placed a five-dollar bill on the table.

There was still the matter of the accompanying sauces -- gravy, curry sauce and blue cheese. We were seated at an al fresco establishment on Second Avenue. A tornado passed by.

"Excuse me m'am," said our gentleman co-adventurer to the waitress, "but is there a tornado going on?"

"No," said the waitress, oblivious to the tornado. "The women inside are just loud."

The lady lawyer was more interested in the sauces than the tornado. She promised Flop that if he combined the gravy, curry sauce and blue cheese, and drank it like a shot, she would pay him five dollars. I said that her idea was elite and sophisticated, so I placed more money on the table.

Flop, an ambitious capitalist and entrepreneur, considered this a good investment. He poured the gravy into the blue cheese, and then the curry sauce, and mixed. He lifted the cup to his mouth and consumed the mixture.

"You just took a month off your life," the lady lawyer told Flop.

"It was worth it," Flop said.

The lady lawyer turned to our co-adventurer, a gentleman. "[Name redacted] once drank his own urine," she told the gentleman.

"I don't believe that," said the gentleman.

"Flop," I said, "how much money would be required for you to drink your own urine?"

"We're talking four figures," Flop said.

"Perhaps I should organize a fundraiser," I said. "It would only be a teacup's worth. All beverages are civilized when there's a teacup involved. Plus," I added helpfully, "urine is an antiseptic."

"Hey Flop," said the gentleman co-adventurer, "how much money to drink a teacup of ejaculate?"

"That would be in the six figures," Flop replied shrewdly.

The brain trust engaged in sophisticated speculation about urine and ejaculate. The gentleman co-adventurer asserted that he drinks his own ejaculate "all the time."

"I fingerbanged your girlfriend," the lady lawyer told the gentleman. "I made out with girls in college."

Elites love waltzing and anal sex, but for the truly sophisticated, the fingerbang is without substitute. As I stepped away from the table to smoke a cigarette in the tornado, I heard the brain trust engage in an animated discussion about acts of fingerbang. I paused to quietly reflect on the rich rewards of sophisticated living.

"You couldn't pay me enough money to smoke a cigarette," Flop said when I returned.

"I ran ten miles today," I countered. "I'm much healthier than you. I can smoke if I want."

An arm-wrestling tournament followed: gentleman co-adventurer defeated Flop, I defeated the lady-lawyer, and the gentleman co-adventurer defeated me. Beer spilled. The waitress walked out into the tornado.

For awhile we exchanged ideas Old English, French, Italian and Chinese: "Hit rǣd swīþlic feortan be wind," Flop said.

"On peut jamais avoir assez de coup de doigt dans le vent," said the lady lawyer.

"Vorrei avere sesso con quella ragazza sottile nel tiara," said the gentleman co-adventurer.

"对手指轰隆将居住," I observed.