I looked up from the chessboard as he spoke.
“I stole some Nietzsche in 1984, and I haven’t stopped since.” Pointing at Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling on the table next to chess board, he continued. “Nietzsche, Plato, Hume, Mill, Foucault, I have them all.” I just stared at him.
“What? It’s not like I steal cars or money or wives. It’s philosophy…truth, and who can put a price on truth?”
I sat there, staring down at the chessboard hoping I wouldn’t have to look at him for another few seconds.
“Just philosophy. Just truth” he said.
I peered up at him over my reading glasses as I reached out to take his knight.
“Ok. Philosophy and Tupperware.”