Paul had already taken Pontius Pilate to work a couple of times. He did a lot of research on Google about how to handle parrots. It was easy to teach Pontius Pilate to talk; it was harder to train him to sit on Paul’s shoulder while heworked. But slowly we began to feel more confident that the parrot was not going to fly away, and on Friday we took him and Maximilian for a quick bite to Urth Cafe on Melrose. We took Pontius Pilate’s cage with us, but when we had ordered and gone outside to sit we let him out and he immediately jumped on Paul’s shoulder. Maximilian lay down under the table, looking for potential victims.
In one minute Pontius Pilate became the center of attention. People were coming up to our table and paying him compliments. The parrot was sitting on Paul’s shoulder and basking in the glow of comments on his beauty and grace, like the Lion King in the middle of the jungle. Maximilian immediately took advantage of the situation and started humping a blond chick with duckling lips and huge breasts . She was definitely Maximilian’s type. She drove him crazy with her deep sexy voice as she told us the story of her ex-boyfriend’s parrot, who used to spit on her each time she entered the house. I apologized to the blonde, picked up Maximilian and forced him to sit on my lap. “The last time I put someone on my lap, I got a yeast infection,” joked the blonde. “I hope you are OK now, Ma’am,” responded Paul. “Never better,” answered the blonde in a flirty voice. She was clearly more interested in Paul than in Pontius Pilate and started moving her breasts and all of her slightly more than 100 pounds of seductive flash in Paul’s direction. Paul was terrified and sat back his chair; Maximilian got jealous and start barking, and then, in the middle of this erotic drama, Pontius Pilates started screaming his head off, “Sarah Palin for Presidente.” I looked around and saw that on the table next to us the waiter had just put a cheese plate. The crowd around us froze for a moment, not knowing how to react. I had to act quickly. I let Maximilian jump down, and ran to the neighboring table, asking the owner to give me his cheese plate. “I’m really sorry, but can I have your cheese for my parrot? He won’t shut up until he gets the cheese. I will pay for your dinner.” The stranger showed his white teeth in a charming smile and gave me the cheese plate. Even though I was still frantic, I couldn’t help noticing his good looks and striking resemblance to Che Guevara. He had that bad boy look I have always liked.

Paul stood up and announced, “Don’t be afraid, guys, my parrot is just joking…” The silence changed to general laughter. “O man,” I thought. “Your Parrot is Sarah Palin’s new spokesman,” the cheese plate guy commented. “My parrot’s name is Pontius Pilate; his specialty used to be Jesus, but now he is into Sarah Palin.”

After Pontius Pilate ate the cheese, he closed his eyes and said three times in a lovely soft voice, “I support free love, my friends” (this was the new phrase Paul was teaching him), went back peacefully to his cage, and fell asleep.

The blonde looked more closely at Paul and realized that it was nothing personal, then silently left.

The cheese guy came over to our table and introduced himself. His name was Ben. Paul and invited him to join us. We ordered another entrée for Ben to replace the cheese plate.i Ben did not want us to pay, but Paul insisted. He then offered to buy us a famous Urth Caffee apple cake for desert.

Ben definitely was very witty. He introduced himself as a philosopher of love, reality show writer, and street artist. I asked if anyone had ever mentioned his resemblance to Che Guevara. “Sure,” smiled Ben. “I make extra money on weekends as a Che Guevara impersonator at birthday parties and Quinceaneras.”

“You’re joking,” asks Paul. “OK, yes, but it would be a good idea.” I mentioned that it might be hard to market.

Paul had to go to the bathroom, and for a moment we were left alone.

“I also tried to write a reality show taking place in a retirement community, but nobody was interested.” “If I had known,” I said, “I would be your star.”

“It is not too late,” said Ben. “I can audition you on Saturday if are you interested.” I had plans for Saturday, but I decided to change them. Ben wrote his number on a napkin and asked me to call. Then he apologized that he had a dentist’s appointment in 15 minutes.

When Paul returned, Ben was already gone. It was time for us to leave as well. “You like the guy! Finally you are coming back to life. Alleluia!” said Paul.