Billionaire Mexicans and Magazines

Have you ever seen a perfect stranger in dire need of help, and yet felt incapable of aiding them? Well that is exactly the position in which I found myself today. There I was, sitting by the window at Barnes and Noble. After a long day at work I decided to unwind with a good book and a Mozart aria. About the time I realized how much of a pompous elitist I was, an attractive young woman sat directly across from my table. She was alone and rifled through a few periodicals in a casual fashion. The table held a few magazines left from the previous occupant. The former apparently returned to find his table presently used by this woman. He was younger, Hispanic descent, short haired, normal looking. He clumsily retrieved his magazines, to which the lady apologized for taking his place. That was apparently an unwise choice. The phrase " I'm sorry I didn't know those were yours " some how translated to " please, sit down and tell me your extended life's story" What followed was one of the most dismally awkward situations I've ever witnessed.

As mentioned previously this man wasted no time in parrying her apology and pulling up a chair to the bewilderment of the young lass. I could not hear the whole conversation but there were little pearls that I was so fortunate to hear. He said that he was waiting for a friend of his who had yet to arrive. The girl nodded and kept her eyes fixed on her Cosmo. Then he proceeded on reciting the dating habits of his acquaintance, contrasting them with his own. Upon hearing this little gem, I lowered my book, peering over the page. He spoke of previous girlfriends and how he was, in more or less words, a man of honor, not "into the things my friend is into." I leave you to fill in that innuendo. At this stage my bewilderment probably exceeded that of the young lady. She was undoubtedly too creeped out to feel bewilderment. Then he let slip that his parents were billionaires living in Mexico with a large house. She kept her eyes locked to the page, and uttered a polite, is that so type comment. It was getting worse by the minute. I felt mortified for her, but at the same time was trying to keep from letting out my muffled laughter. I wanted to help her, but what could I do? A distraction perhaps, I could throw my book at his head, and signal her to run. My cowardice held me in check and curiosity of what he'd say next.

He continued to talk when the climactic comment arrived.
"My friend says his he'll give me $1500 if you go out with me."
That was it, I almost lost it. Ah yes, it was all clear now. The son of billionaire Mexicans had come to the local book shop to rendezvous with his unscrupulously lascivious friend who'd offer a seemingly useless sum of cash if he'd woo the girl in the periodicals. What a treat! The tense body language of the girl was screaming, get away from me you weirdo! Still, she maintined her composure and said that she already had a boyfriend. Whether it was fact or fiction I know not, but it seemed to do the trick. Within a few short seconds our would-be Romeo was shuffling off undoubtedly to find another conquest.

I must give him high marks for creativity. I haven't heard one like that since I worked for my schizophrenic boss. I was stunned, and I can only image what she was thinking. Apparently that was enough excitement for her, after talking briefly to a real acquaintance she left. So let this be a lesson. Girls, if there are magazines on a table at Barnes and Noble, go else where!