À la recherche du bar bets perdu.
I once got in a leisurely argument with a friend in a bar as to whether or not I could draw a recognizable portrait of L. Ron Hubbard on command. He said there was no way, I said I could, absolutely. So we agreed to put a beer on the line.
I then drew, on a bar napkin, a little scrawling of a tubby, gray-haired guy in an ascot and a captain’s hat. That’s basically L. Ron Hubbard; just the Skipper from Gilligan’s Island, with an ascot and a more immortal-looking operating thetan (depicted, in this case, by squiggly lines emanating off of the head).
So we took the drawing up to a guy we didn’t know at the bar, and said “Do you know who this person is?”
“Sure I do,” said the person. “That’s L. Ron Hubbard. You can tell by the squiggly lines and the captain’s hat.”
And so my friend had to buy me a beer. I let him keep the drawing, which he later put on his refrigerator.
