“How would you rate yourself in terms of computer savvy?” Jason asked Tubby.
“Lower end of the scale.” He sized up the menu. “I think I’ll go for the BLT,” which was described as a crispy soft shell crab served with bacon, lettuce and tomato on toast. It came with fries. Tubby Dubonnet, who defined New Orleans food broadly as all of the very tasty food served in New Orleans, really liked the way they served fries.
“I’m thinking of going light with the fried oyster salad. Maybe with bleu cheese dressing.”
“That’s light, all right. Throw in some matzo ball soup and you’ve got a nice healthy meal.”
They were having lunch at Lüke, a restaurant with a German flair.
“Yeah, I think I will.”
Tubby didn’t comment. His friend needed to gain a few pounds. Jason Boaz was a freelance inventor and looked like it. He was tall and skinny and had a neat black beard that ended in a sort of roguish goatee. That and a receding hairline, curious eyes, bushy black eyebrows, and a disbelieving expression. Tubby, by way of contrast, was a big guy in all respects, still boasting a full head of hair, and he had a guileless countenance that seemed to believe anything anybody said. He did, in fact, want to believe what people said, but he didn’t.
They gave their orders to the waiter in a big white apron. The place was filling up. Mostly lawyer and banker types. That was all right. Tubby Dubonnet was a lawyer. Not too many tourists seemed to come to Lüke though its vast bar, covered in crabs waiting to be shelled, was a sight worth traveling from Cincinnati for.
“So, Tubby, what I wanted to talk about is a new idea I have.” Tubby took a sip of his sweet tea – he was trying to cut back – and made the appropriate encouraging sounds because Jason had a knack for coming up with good ideas. Some, like his Port A Soak beer dispenser and his Fruity Swizzle and his Men’s Total Body Spray, actually made money. Tubby knew because he had done the legal work to patent those wild ideas and he had channeled the royalties through his trust account.
The inventor lowered his voice.
“It’s a major breakthrough in personal computing. It’s going to change the way we do everything.” He leaned forward so that his chin was just inches from Tubby’s. “It’s going to change the way we think!”
“Wow,” Tubby said. “That’s heavy stuff for a Thursday.”
Jason sat back in his chair. “Okay,” he said. “Check me out.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ask me a question. Anything. Completely off the wall.”
Tubby accepted a warm loaf of bread wrapped in a napkin from the waiter and thought about it. He reached for the butter.
“What is the capital of Tanzania?” he asked.
Jason wrinkled his brow and squinted like he was lost in thought.
“Dodoma.”
“Really? Could be.”
“Could be and is. Now ask me a question you know the answer to.
“What Supreme Court case determined that the judiciary can declare a law passed by Congress unconstitutional?”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Marbury versus Madison.”
Tubby was truly surprised. He would have bet a million bucks, well, a thousand bucks, that Jason Boaz had no clue about any significant event in American legal history unless it occurred within five miles of Jackson Square or involved one of his relatives.
“How did you do that?”
“It’s all in here.” Jason tapped the side of his forehead.
Tubby just squinted at Jason. His client was a creative soul but by no means was he a walking encyclopedia.
“In here,” Jason said pointing to his eyes. “Contact lenses.”
“You can use your contact lenses like a computer?”
“Something like that.” Jason nodded.
“Just by rolling your eyes?”
“That’s about it. I also have to use my cell phone to tee it up.”
The waiter placed a garden salad in front of Tubby and a steaming bowl of matzo ball soup in front of his companion.
Tubby didn’t look at his food. “That’s
“Lower end of the scale.” He sized up the menu. “I think I’ll go for the BLT,” which was described as a crispy soft shell crab served with bacon, lettuce and tomato on toast. It came with fries. Tubby Dubonnet, who defined New Orleans food broadly as all of the very tasty food served in New Orleans, really liked the way they served fries.
“I’m thinking of going light with the fried oyster salad. Maybe with bleu cheese dressing.”
“That’s light, all right. Throw in some matzo ball soup and you’ve got a nice healthy meal.”
They were having lunch at Lüke, a restaurant with a German flair.
“Yeah, I think I will.”
Tubby didn’t comment. His friend needed to gain a few pounds. Jason Boaz was a freelance inventor and looked like it. He was tall and skinny and had a neat black beard that ended in a sort of roguish goatee. That and a receding hairline, curious eyes, bushy black eyebrows, and a disbelieving expression. Tubby, by way of contrast, was a big guy in all respects, still boasting a full head of hair, and he had a guileless countenance that seemed to believe anything anybody said. He did, in fact, want to believe what people said, but he didn’t.
They gave their orders to the waiter in a big white apron. The place was filling up. Mostly lawyer and banker types. That was all right. Tubby Dubonnet was a lawyer. Not too many tourists seemed to come to Lüke though its vast bar, covered in crabs waiting to be shelled, was a sight worth traveling from Cincinnati for.
“So, Tubby, what I wanted to talk about is a new idea I have.” Tubby took a sip of his sweet tea – he was trying to cut back – and made the appropriate encouraging sounds because Jason had a knack for coming up with good ideas. Some, like his Port A Soak beer dispenser and his Fruity Swizzle and his Men’s Total Body Spray, actually made money. Tubby knew because he had done the legal work to patent those wild ideas and he had channeled the royalties through his trust account.
The inventor lowered his voice.
“It’s a major breakthrough in personal computing. It’s going to change the way we do everything.” He leaned forward so that his chin was just inches from Tubby’s. “It’s going to change the way we think!”
“Wow,” Tubby said. “That’s heavy stuff for a Thursday.”
Jason sat back in his chair. “Okay,” he said. “Check me out.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ask me a question. Anything. Completely off the wall.”
Tubby accepted a warm loaf of bread wrapped in a napkin from the waiter and thought about it. He reached for the butter.
“What is the capital of Tanzania?” he asked.
Jason wrinkled his brow and squinted like he was lost in thought.
“Dodoma.”
“Really? Could be.”
“Could be and is. Now ask me a question you know the answer to.
“What Supreme Court case determined that the judiciary can declare a law passed by Congress unconstitutional?”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Marbury versus Madison.”
Tubby was truly surprised. He would have bet a million bucks, well, a thousand bucks, that Jason Boaz had no clue about any significant event in American legal history unless it occurred within five miles of Jackson Square or involved one of his relatives.
“How did you do that?”
“It’s all in here.” Jason tapped the side of his forehead.
Tubby just squinted at Jason. His client was a creative soul but by no means was he a walking encyclopedia.
“In here,” Jason said pointing to his eyes. “Contact lenses.”
“You can use your contact lenses like a computer?”
“Something like that.” Jason nodded.
“Just by rolling your eyes?”
“That’s about it. I also have to use my cell phone to tee it up.”
The waiter placed a garden salad in front of Tubby and a steaming bowl of matzo ball soup in front of his companion.
Tubby didn’t look at his food. “That’s
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