I sit down next to two noisy and wildly gesticulating men.
“Hi, what are you two arguing over?”
Big Ginger Mustache answers. “We aren’t arguing, we’re enthusiastically agreeing with each other.”
“With hand gestures?”
“With hand gestures.”
“And what are you agreeing about?”
“Girls, money, and how much we like tattoos.”
“That’s great! I love those things too!”
“Girls with tattoos and money?”
“Absolutely. And we can combine all three, here I am, a girl with tattoos whom you can give money to. Would you like a dance?” I itsy bitst spider my fingers down his chest, a mistake. He sucks his paunch in angrily.
“I don’t like dances.”
“Have you had a dance here?”
“No. And I don’t intend to start with you.”
Okay then. Trying to gracefully move on, I address his hitherto silent friend. Maybe he can add some charm to this tedious conversation and make it not a total washout. “you’re looking quite dapper this evening.” compliments: always a good bet for decreasing tension.
“Yes, he does, and he’s charming also, but you won’t find that out since it takes more than 30 seconds to discover it and you won’t stick around long enough.”
Dapper Man still has nothing to say for himself, instead allowing Bristly Carrot Mustache to rudely assure me of his charms. Seriously?
blink. “you’re being awfully snide for someone who hasn’t even spent any money yet.”
“It’s ok, I can, just between us gingers.”
“My grandfather had the same idea and I hated him.”
“you’ll hate me for different reasons!”
“you know, I don’t think I’ll stick around long enough.”
Shortly after that I had a similarly rapid-fire but much more amusing and sweet conversation with a banker on his way to Qatar for what he assured me would be an incredibly lucrative year. I wish I could remember what we talked about but he got dances before I could take any notes. Good conversation is such an ephemeral thing. I was really happy to rinse bitchy ginger out of my head.
What I’m doing now: