Friday, January 28, 2011

Conversations at a Coffee House

Octogenarian: "You guys writing a screenplay?"

Boss/Business Partner: "Excuse me?"

O: "Are you screen writers? You know, here for the festival?"

B: "Oh. Uh. No. We're just here doing some work. Planning. Talking about..."

O, mumbles: "If she were my wife, I'd listen to everything she had to say, too!" (grabs my arm briefly)

Boss, uncertain -- exactly -- what he said, makes some kind of joke.

The old man, feeling that the environment is safe (his test was successful) and he's not going to be taken out by a younger man, grabs my arm a little bit longer, a little more aggressively and pulls. Makes some other joke about having me around or my looks.

B: "You in the film industry?"

O: "Oh no. I'm worth about 2 billion dollars." (Glances at me.)

B: "Oh. Really?"

O: "I'm in the coal mining business."

B: "Good business to be in?"

You'll notice, that so far, he's been flirting with me THROUGH ANOTHER MAN!

O: "Well, I made my first half million that way. Then I struck gold. Made my first billion. Then found more gold. Made my second billion." Looks to me, pointedly, "So I have money."

Me: "Haha. Let's talk!" (Not sarcastic enough, I think.)

B: "I'd love to talk to you! What are we doing here?"

The Octogenarian, somewhat less than amused half-heartedly laughs, mumbles something, and wanders away (to come up with another plan of attack).

O, coming back: "Ok. One more thing, if you only had one vacation left in your life, where would you go?"

Clearly, I can't answer "St. John" or "Hawaii" or "Europe." Even "Australia" seemed too risky. So I go for one of my immediate top 3, ambitious enough for LAST TRIP OF MY LIFE: "Antarctica." Nothing says romantic interlude like that, right?

O: "What?"

E: "Antarctica."

O: "Antarctica??" Looks at boss questioningly and says, "And you?"

B: "Africa."

Of course, the Octogenarian brushes that off, looks at me and says, "How about Elko?"

E: "Elko... Nevada??"

O: "Yes. Nevada." Looks at boss: "There are gold mines," looks at me and points, "and whorehouses."

Yes. The whorehouse it going to seal the deal. You're pulling out the money shot, because when ACTUAL money doesn't work, prostitution always does. I'll pack up my stuff right now. See you later, boss!

B: "Gold mines and gold diggers! I'm with you. If she doesn't take you up on it, I'm climbing in your car right now."

O: "Well, I have three sons and they're watching EVERY DIME!"

The conversation petered out from there. When my boss got up to get some food and I was alone for a minute, the man came back for one last shot, "Does he beat you with that baseball bat?"

E: "I beat him."

And therein lies the end of his dreams. Poor man. Poor me -- literally. I'm second-guessing my role in life. Thinking about getting "Gold Digging for Dummies" and trying again.


Kate said...

what a crazy adventure! so happy you shared :)

Nathali said...

Oh my gosh!!! Do people like this really exist. How lucky you met him!

Michemily said...

My 97-year-old great uncle likes to tell jokes and flirt with girls. He told me, "You know how to tell when you've gotten old? You stop looking at the waitress and start looking at the meal." Well, obviously he's not old yet . . .