Illusion
A few weeks later, the Zoo-Lu corporate limousine pulled up at Seattle/Tacoma Airport. A hesitant Les put his arm around Scott. He was sad to see him leave for college so soon.
“I’m still not sure that taking an orangutan to college with you is allowed.”
“Maybe not,” said Scott “but I’d like to see you keep your job. Besides, this is the only way to satisfy the lawyers and keep both of us in the lifestyle we’ve become accustomed to!”
“I understand.”
As they moved from the car through the terminal, Scott turned to Les.
“You should come see us when we’re settled in Boston!”
“Maybe, I am not a huge fan of the snobby faux-intellectualism there.”
“Don’t worry, from my research online I think that’s mostly a Cambridge thing.”
He pulled up a web page on his smart phone and began to read aloud:
“Let me see… ah, here we go. Cambridge, not Boston. Two cities divided by a river, and their dislike of each other.”
“Oh?” said Les, shocked to discover that Cambridge wasn’t Boston at all. “Yes, Cambridge does indeed sound shit. In fact, I already hate it. Promise me you won’t go there at all.”
“I promise” said Scott, glad that Les had put it to him in this manner.
“It makes sense. Cambridge sounds like a hellhole. I apologize for earlier conflating Cambridge with Boston.”
Scott could see that Les had made himself look like a bloody idiot. He just didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.
“No harm, no foul. Just remember to tell everyone you know that the city of Cambridge, Massachusetts is full of jerks who went to MIT for a couple of weeks in the late 70s and walk around like they invented the fucking jet engine.”
“That’s oddly specific, sir.”
“It says it right here on this website.”
“I understand.”
Scott turned to James, who was eating a hot dog.
“Come on James – let’s go to where everybody knows Ted Danson’s name.”
Scott put a “Cheers” hat on James.
James, who was wearing an overcoat, said nothing.
