Old Ivy students come from a range of cultures, so the Dining Hall offers a variety of breakfast meats, including scrapple, bacon, hash, sausages, smoked fish and a variety of organ meats. For students seeking to adhere to Halal or Kosher diets, there is turkey hash and several kinds of chicken sausage. For those who do not eat meat, fruits, grains and cheese are in plentiful supply.
Roderick, of course, always goes for the scrapple. This morning, he fills his plate and joins Molly, Anna and Natasha, who are already in deep conversation.
Molly wants to know how Natasha's date with Albert went last night. Not well, it turns out. It seems that Albert is not keen on the Dusseldorf School -- or at least he is not as keen as Natasha, and is more inclined towards the illustrative style of N.C.Wyeth. It seems his tastes in music are also problematic.
"I asked him if he likes Mendelssohn, and he said he thinks Mendelssohn is 'interesting', which I guess is a yellow flag right there. So then I asked him to name his favorite composer and he thinks for a minute and says the likes Bach a lot but his favorite composer is Scarlatti -- can you imagine that? Scarlatti!" Natasha spits out the words as if Albert said his favorite hobby is killing small children and eating them for lunch.
Roderick muses that yes, he understands how such a difference in tastes would be challenging for a relationship.
Natasha sighs. "It's so hard for a single mom to find a man."
Well, so much for that. Albert still has a problem.
Meanwhile, Mr. Smith steps off an airplane in Fun City. The National Association of Endowment Managers has scheduled its annual conference here in the famous mecca of gambling and sin. The conference organizers have asked Mr. Smith to do a presentation on the subject of "Capital Accumulation Through Prudent Investing and Respect for the Law of Large Numbers."
His first impression of Fun City: there are slot machines in the Arrivals lounge.
Picking up his baggage, Mr. Smith enters the line for a taxi, which is about a half-mile long. Wow, he thinks. What a fun city.
The taxi takes him to the conference venue: Camelot, a Disneyesque medieval-themed hotel-casino in the form of a castle inside which thousands of guests spend their incomes attempting to disprove the Law of Large Numbers. Across the street is a Disneyesque Paris-themed hotel casino inside which thousands of guests spend their incomes attempting to disprove the Law of Large Numbers; adjacent to that, there is a Disneyesque New York themed hotel-casino inside which thousands of guests spend their income attempting to disprove the Law of Large Numbers.
Sure is a lot of variety here in Fun City, thinks Mr. Smith.
Stepping inside Camelot, Mr. Smith is immediately assaulted by the noise of slot machines, roulette tables and thousands of guests spending their incomes attempting to disprove the Law of Large Numbers, plus the smell of cigarette smoke. A very buxom young woman dressed in a faux-medieval outfit approaches him.
"Hi, I'm Mandy! Welcome to Camelot! Can I tell you all about the wonderful things to see and do in Fun City?"
Mr. Smith pauses. "I don't drink, smoke cigarettes, gamble, go to celebrity 'shows' or whorehouses. What else do you have?"
Mandy pauses, clearly stumped, then looks over Mr. Smith's shoulder at the next guest.
"Hi, I'm Mandy! Welcome to Camelot! Can I tell you all about the wonderful things to see and do in Fun City?"
At the Registration desk, there is a line about a quarter of a mile long. Wow, thinks Mr. Smith. What a fun city.
