“So there is
a meeting.”
“What? No. No,
we're just... filing a report.”
“Where is it?
Which room?”
“There's no
meeting today. It was canceled.”
“How many people
are going to be there? Who's running it?”
“There hasn't
been a meeting for a long time. I was just saying, like, dude, what
happened to all the meetings?”
“Are there going
to be papers and graphs and agendas? Is there going to be a
presentation?”
“Look, there's
something I should tell you.”
“Dude, don't tell
him.”
“He should know,
all right? He should know what people are saying. You're a meeting
freak.”
“You're a meeting
nutball.”
“You are way
too into meetings. You were making people uncomfortable.”
“Oh, great. I
happen to like meetings and everybody thinks I'm crazy. I suppose if
I said that meetings are a normal part of modern life, that they're
the essence of civilization, the distillation of the human condition,
and if we were to go to enough meetings, incessant meetings, a
lifetime of meetings, our souls will be purified and we will finally
grasp the mind of God, I suppose everybody would think I'm a
lunatic.”
“Sort of. But
we're not going to a meeting. This is more of an informal snake
chat.”
“Blasphemer!”
