No lunch with Ez, T, and Jimmy for me
I had interest to read up on ‘the Wasteland’. Not to read ‘the Wasteland’, but to read about ‘the Wasteland’.
It turns out that Eliot used to lunch with Ezra Pound and James Joyce before its release. Of course he did. Why would I think he would’t? I would hate to be eating lunch with TS Eliot, James Joyce and Ezra Pound. What an absolute bore. They would bawdily quote lines from ancient texts as they finished their sandwiches, each laughing like a hyena at his own insights. And the ribbing! Oh my, the ribbing. Of course, there would surely be salacious musings upon the young server’s package supported in his britches like Hercules might cradle the Earth itself. Old JJ might roll his eyes at how crass the conversation had turned while Eliot might shake his head and take a sip of tea. This would tickle Ezra to no end. Think of how uncomfortable I would be.
Perhaps they would turn to me for some insight or witticism, and I would look up from my plate and grunt. Ezra would roll his eyes, unsurprised by this neanderthal who somehow made his way into their midday sojourn. TS would snicker and Jimmy might inquire further regarding my proclivities.
“The waiter is not your type, sir?”
No, he would state it much better than that…but, I’m not that James…just a regular old Jimmy who has so little to offer in regards to the waiter’s loins and so little else.
I finish up my chicken sandwich platter and they their cucumber sandwiches and lemon water and we’d go our separate ways and upon my departure, Ezra would assure them that this would be the last time they asked me to come along.
No siree, this would not be a great luncheon.