A Den Of Iniquity

When we arrived home from the gym Saturday evening, the sun was setting in the west (it does that here in Spain). San Geraldo looked out a hall window and asked, “Is that a fake statue on top of that building?”

I decided to be of little to no help.

“A fake statue?” I asked. “As opposed to a real statue?”

“Yes. Over there. Is that a fake statue?”

“Wow. I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to tell from here if it’s a fake one. Or a real one,” I said.

“The one right below the antenna?” he continued. ” Or, wait. Is it a dish?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s a satellite dish,” I replied. “As opposed to a fake statue.”

I did realise that by fake statue he meant one of those plastic owls intended to scare pigeons away. (The Dowager Duchess had one on her balcony for a short time. She got rid of it after the pigeons covered it in poop.)

As we entered the apartment, I said, “You know, I’m not even sure if that was a real satellite dish or only a fake one.”

“What?”

“You know, the dish you thought was a fake statue.”

He noticed my smirk and finally caught on. “Oh. I guess it wouldn’t be a fake statue, would it.”

He then walked into his office/den. Musy followed.

As usual, San Geraldo’s office was (and is) a mess. He apologized to Musy (who had to navigate through the clothes, shoes, books, and papers on the floor.

 “Musy,” he said, “I’m sorry for this den of inequity.”

“Iniquity,” I muttered.

“What?”

“There’s nothing inequitable about that mess.”

And to think this is his first language.