"What?" I wanted to know, still coming closer.
"You really must read this. The evidence is right here for you and the rest of the world to see! " This time he gestured too enthusiastically with his cup of tea, and some sloshed out of his cup and into his keyboard with a hiss. A small cloud of steam issued forth from between the plastic keys like a conjured genie. The computer continued to function as before, unfazed. "Dammit!" He yelled to himself. "They don't make them like this anymore!"
I came over to where he was perched and looked over his shoulder at the computer monitor, which was old and glowing green. it looked like something from an old movie about the future. Typewriter font emerged from the left-hand side of the screen, and made it's way to the right in a stuttered path. I had no idea where he found this ancient computer, or how it was working now, but it seemed to be connected to the internet, and he had searched something or other. He had found his answers here in vibrant neon color. Every line of text offered from this thing was precluded with a "<" or ">" like ; "> affirmative. That is correct. Fish oils are necessary in twelve cultures.
Things like that. Old Fashioned computer things. It baffled me. I did not understand the Hows or the Whys. I was also aware that I had other things to do, and was becoming anxious, having spent almost three hours in this basement already.
"What?" I asked him again while sidling up beside him to look into his antiquated monitor.
" Take a look at THIS if you still doubt me. " He drew a line in the proverbial sand. I moved closer and squinted, trying to make sense of this crazy monitor.
Sure enough, in unnatural florescent green font there it was : "> FISH OIL. NECESSARY. >ELEVEN CULTURES DEPENDENT. VITAMIN 'C'. >B12. WALRUS BLUBBER. ..." I had no idea what this was all about or where he found it, but vitamin C and walrus blubber and fish oil were all mentioned in the same paragraph. ... Who cares? I wondered. I may be wrong though. I began to doubt myself. I felt drugged. Dizzy. Sick. What was in that tea?
"Ummm... Where did you get this?" I asked " Is that the internet? Why is it green?"
"What THAT is, Zak, is the result of nearly twenty years of intense research conducted amongst the indigenous populations flourishing North of the Arctic Circle. Theirs is a fish-oil rich region. Perhaps one of the richest on the entire planet! They are a hardy people. They live a long time, and their lungs are as pink and clear as they come. Tell me something: Have you ever seen an Inuit smoking crack cocaine? What about Methamphetamines? Now answer truthfully, have you ever seen an Eskimo smoking so much as a Cuban cigar?" As he waited for my answer, he ate the last piece of his fish stick in one bite, and began to hum again while chewing.
"Ummm... I guess not. I am not sure I've ever seen an Eskimo, now that you mention it. I don't think I've seen a Cuban cigar either. How would I tell if I saw a real Eskimo and not an Indian or something? I mean, if they weren't wearing a fur? Could I tell?"
I should have just humored him and said 'NO.'
Pointing a finger in the air to hold his turn, he finished chewing, swallowed, and then addressed my question.
"OH ZAK, You would certainly KNOW if you saw a true fish-oil disciple if you were to meet one in the flesh, and would definitely take notice if you were to even sit near them on a bus. The only things these people smoke are seal or walrus backstrap, Cod, and Salmon! As a result not only is their skin aglow with health and vitality, but they begin to emanate a certain odor after a lifetime of fish-oil enjoyment. The stuff practically oozes out of their pores! In addition to the many cardio-thoracic benefits, the people become absolutely waterproof as well! It is a win-win! Tell the truth: Have YOU ever had to slide down an icy cliff on your back into the Arctic Sea after a wounded seal?" He was staring at me again, blinking through his round lenses, waiting for me to answer him.
"No."
"Well, if you ever did have to do such a thing, you would wish your skin was glistening with the oil of a good cold-water fish. It would be advantageous. Live to be a hundred, too! Of course, there are drawbacks. Every advantage presents drawbacks as well, am I right? There is no free lunch, so to speak."
I thought about how I just shelled out seventeen dollars at Skippers for his lunch, and became curious if the professor was mocking me with this statement.
"... I guess not." I was aware that I may have been being tested. None of this made much sense to me, I just wanted to buy his car. I began to feel like I was being subjected to some elaborate prank. I could do this a while longer still. I really wanted that car.
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