Sitting in a coffee shop, I was thinking about other things and watching a delicate stock broker. He was picking his nails nervously underneath the table, telling a safe and pretty woman with a fur collar about how highly he regarded fashion. European. Six months ahead.
He spoke quietly and controlled, touching on the talking points of fine wine and fi-nonce, like he was giving a powerpoint presentation to a trout, careful not to scare her away with any sudden movements. But she wasn't scared, no. She didn't go hide under a river bank, or seek refuge at a nearby sample sale, where they were virtually giving away women's undergarments. She was delighted - well, excited in the possibility of delight - with potential for growth as early as next quarter. Oh, New York.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)