Nothing Human Is Alien

In Bar-Cafe Bicicleta, half an hour later:

Vello: What a wonderful lunch. I think we've had more than we ordered.

Maria Goyri: Don't worry. We'll pay.

(she glares at the waiter)

David: We'll only pay for what we ordered.

Waiter: Zen non' eatzo mucho.

Schopenhauer: Tut! it doesn't matter I'll get the bill. I must say, I'm enjoying this conference.

George Santayana: I too. It's been pleasant to meet some young people.

Baby: And a baby, from a palace.

George Santayana: Yes, even a baby. I count myself a pragmatist, after all.

Baby: No one else has said anything nice. Will you take me shopping?

George Santayana (alarmed): Goodness. What for?

Sweezus: Oh balls! I forgot. He wants to go shopping for board shorts.

Maria Goyri: He appears to be dreadfully spoilt. Give him to me.

She picks up the baby and walks out of the cafe, without looking back.

Sweezus: Shit! Where's she going? If anything happens to him.....

Arthur: I thought you'd gone off him.

Sweezus: Yeah but like.. what if she drops him or something?

Belle: She's a mother. She won't drop him. Marie and I will go after her, if you're worried.

They get up and go out of the cafe.

They catch up with Maria Goyri.

Baby: Where are we going?

Maria Goyri: Best and Menta.

Baby (aghast): The second hand shop! No way!

Back in Bar-Cafe Bicicleta:

Vello: It's peaceful without that baby.

David: What was his name?

Sweezus: Let me think. Dunno. Did he even have one?

José Ortega y Gasset: Let us give him a name.

George Santayana: I vote for Terence.

Sweezus: That's cool!

Arthur: Good name for an alien.

Schopenhauer: Who's for another?

He hails the bad waiter, who comes.