The food was delicious, and they even got to glimpse a celebrity, though neither Perry nor Lester knew who the young woman was, nor what she was famous for. She was surrounded by children who came over from other tables seeking autographs, and more than one patron snapped a semi-subtle photo of her. "Poor girl," Perry said with feeling. "It's a career decision here. You decide to become famous because you want that kind of life. Sometimes you even kid yourself that it'll last forever -- that in thirty years, they'll come into Musso and Frank and ask for Miss Whatshername's table. Anyone who wants to know what stardom looks like can find out -- and no one becomes a star by accident." "You think?" Perry said. "I mean, we were celebs, kind of, for a while there --" "Are you saying that that happened by accident?" "I never set out to get famous --" "You took part in a national movement, Perry. You practically *founded* it. What did you think was going to happen --" "You're saying that we were just attention whores --" "No, Perry, no. We weren't *just* attention whores. We were attention whores *and* we built and ran cool shit. There's nothing wrong with being an attention whore. It's an attention economy. If you're going to be a working stiff, you should pick a decent currency to get paid in. But you can't sit there and tell me that it didn't feel good, didn't feel *great* to have all those people looking up to us, following us into battle, throwing themselves at us --" Perry held up his hands. His friend was looking more alive than he had at any time since Perry had been ushered into his workshop. He sat up straight, and the old glint of mischief and good humor was in his eye. "I surrender, buddy, you're right." They ordered desserts, heavy "diplomat puddings" -- bread pudding made with cake and cherries, and Lester dug in, after making Perry swear not to breathe a word of it to Suzanne. He ate with such visible pleasure that Perry felt like a voyeur. "How long did you say you were in town for?" "I'm just passing through," Perry said. He had only planned on maybe seeing Lester long enough for lunch or something. Now it seemed a foregone conclusion that he'd be put up in the "guest cottage." He thought about getting back on the road. There was a little gang in Oregon that made novelty school supplies, they were always ramping up for their busy season at this time of year. They were good people to work for. "Come on, where you got to be? Stay a week. I'll put you on the payroll as a consultant. You can give lunch-hour talks to the R&D team, whatever you want." "Lester, you just got through telling me how much you hate your job --" "That's the beauty of contracting -- you don't stick around long enough to hate it, and you never have to worry about the org chart. Come on, pal --" "I'll think about it."