The Habits Of A Lifetime

This is somewhat embarrassing, says Vello, biting into his tomato bruschetta..

It need not be, says David.

True, agrees Vello. But ...... he doesn't look like a cyclist.

Schopenhauer is intrigued. He has never in his life given anyone cause for embarrassment. Except for his mother, at her ghastly intellectual soirées. And she had deserved it.

No, says Schopenhauer. I do not own, nor have I ever ridden, a bicycle.

I wonder, says David, if you have ever felt tempted?

Often, says Schopenhauer. But I try to resist it. Of course, one can never......

I imagine he fears falling off, says Katherine.

Off? says Schopenhauer. I thought we had moved to generalities. Are we still talking about bicycles?

Yes, says Vello. The point is, my dear chap, that this article you've promised to write must refer to one or more actual bicycles, or perhaps, in your case, a Platonic ideal bicycle.

A Platonic ideal bicycle, says Schopenhauer. Yes, I could write about that.

Good, then, that's sorted, says David. Is everyone finished?

Do they do cakes here? asks Schopenhauer, craning to look at the counter.

Doubtless, says David. I know they have friands. Would you like one?

Why not? says Schopenhauer. It would serve to prolong our delightful discourse.

It would, says Katherine.

David orders a plate of friands.

Yummo, says Sweezus. I love friands.

Do you ride a bicycle? asks Schopenhauer, turning to Gaius.

Certainly, says Gaius. It's the best way to get around, and the cheapest. I would ride to Tasmania, were it not for Bass Strait.

And I would happily join you, says Schopenhauer. On my Platonic ideal. At the same time I could learn from you about science and jellyfish.

You surprise me, says Gaius.

I am not serious, says Schopenhauer. I have a playful side.

You could go on the ferry from Melbourne, says Katherine. Ray could drive you to Melbourne, with your bikes in the back of the ute.

So I could, says Ray, taking a blueberry friand. I have family in Melbourne. I could drop in.

Suddenly what seemed impossible has become a real option.

(Thank you, irrational universe).

Let us finish the cakes, says David. Then repair to the bike shop. Schopenhauer can chose his ideal bicycle.

Schopenhauer crumbles his friand between his fingers. Crumbs fall onto his plate. He is thinking.

Why not? That's what he does.