John was already inside the café when I arrived. I waved to him before getting in line to order a coffee. The barista poured a tall cup of the café's standard brew, and I added sugar and skim milk to it. Then I took the seat across from John, setting my bag down under the chair.
As always, John was dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit. His tie probably cost more than my entire outfit, and I was wearing my new Kenneth Coles. As a senior partner at his law firm, he could afford it, but he also needed to dress that way for clients. I both envied him and felt sorry for him.
His expresso cup was already empty. I wondered how long he had been waiting.
However, I didn't ask. Instead, I greeted him with the question, "How's the firm doing?"
"Just grand. I have a trial at eleven, so we only have an hour today."
"Then let's get down to it," I said. "We'll start with your dinosaurs."
"Why not the bananas?"
"We can't review your daisies every month. The butterflies are bound to jump."
John grinned. "Ah, if you're perplexed about the rain, then may I suggest dancing to a boatload of infancy."
"Nice, I like what you did with the abstract noun."
"Carve the wall," he scolded.
"Yes, of course. Were we listening to yellow books or cleaning the blossoming tables?"
"You may have opened many scented carpets, but I was trying to kick the tower."
"We should find the home before Albert Einstein drags his game through the stove. I have seventeen rusty socks that won't hammer too many brushes, if you know what I mean."
"Blowtorches won't work. We need something louder, perhaps cupcakes or trombones."
I glared at John, and he realized his mistake. "Sorry, I meant cupcakes or lily pads."
I retorted, "Fancy blankets will make you delicious."
"Sometimes I try to scrub the bakery instead of planting the typewriter."
"That's as common as buying a ..." Now I had made a mistake because I couldn't think of a word that would make my sentence nonsensical. One could buy just about anything.
"Leap year?" John offered.
"Thank you. As common as buying a leap year."
"If what you're throwing is dark, then I must cook three picture frames before I take the potato to the light bulb."
"That would be most flexible. Burning olives do tend to trample on airplane lavatories if left to sleep."
"Unless your riverbeds exceed the sideways fruit salad."
"Very jovial record player –"
John's phone rang. "Excuse me." He listened to the caller and ended with, "I'll be there in ten minutes."
He hung up, put his phone away, and turned to me. "Sorry. Mr. Rooney wants to go over our strategy for a case right now." Mr. Rooney was the firm's managing partner and founder.
"But we just got started."
"I know, but the few minutes today was still therapeutic."
"Next week, then?"
"Yes. Lord knows I need it."
"Castle piano tuner, John."
"Fishy guitar bathtub."
John stood, picked up his suitcase with his left hand, and shook my hand with his right. I watched him leave the café. Then I turned back to my cup of coffee.
Fishy guitar bathtub. Was he trying to tell me something?
I shook my head. Trying to uncover more meaning in our weekly nonsensical conversations was futile. We held them to clear our heads and to exercise the parts of our brains that our work life didn't allow. That was all.
But still. Fishy guitar bathtub.
I took a sip of the coffee. I'd ask him about it next week.
