It was written on one of those bag/wrapper, the kind they give you to at Starbucks when you order a scone. I was confused. Was he trying to give me an extra vanilla petit scone? Or maybe the leftovers of a bran muffin?
I opened the bag/wrapper and only found a wad of used napkin. Then it dawned on me…. “Do you want to have ME tonight?” I looked up in astonishment at the guy sitting 2 chairs away from me at the laptop table bar). He was wearing a smirk.
“I don’t think so, I have to work,” I indicated the pages of script I was memorizing for the weekend. He turned to me and indicated that he didn’t understand. “I have to WORK,” I reiterated. “Oh, wuerk?” he enunciated slowly. Oh GREAT, he’s FRENCH. (Of course he’s french!) He made a face of ‘too bad’ or ‘tant pis’ or ‘you coulda shoulda had this!’
He sidled up to me. His breath smelled of cigarettes and coffee. (Once again, how FRENCH!) He asked me a few questions, “Wat iz eet ur wuerkingg on?” I countered with “What brings you to San Francisco?” Oh, his eyes lit up! “‘Ere!” he pulled his laptop closer to us both.
On the screen were beautiful shots of San Francisco skyline and Los Angeles beaches. Vanuatu sunsets and Bankok skies. Indonesian markets and Samoan delicacies. But wait, was there a beautiful woman in each set of pictures?
“Oh no,” I realized, “I’ve bumped into the INTERNATIONAL PLAYBOY.” The I.P LOVES his life. Loves to tell you how great his life is. Loves to remind you that life is dull in others’ world, but his life is better than theirs. And you know how you can get a piece of that fantastic life? SLEEP WITH HIM.
“Come on, just come up to the hotel room,” he urged. “I want to photograph you.” He flipped thru shots of other women posing for him in various hotel rooms. These pictures aren’t as good as the landscape ones. These pictures make Facebook profile shots look professional. “Maybe a massage.” He flipped thru more shots. One of them is him kissing a girl while holding the camera with one hand. “Oh, cheeky!” he perked with spirit. “Come on. Opportunity only knocks once in a while… and when it’s gone,” he made a ‘Poof! There it goes’ sound.
“I have to memorize these lines.”
He shook his head in mild disappointment. Packed up his things. As he passed me, he wrote his name on my script and told me to look him up on Facebook. He walked out of the Starbucks and across the street to the Hyatt. Thru the Hyatt doors…. and disappeared into the Hyatt lobby…
…And I assume he probably snuck out one of the side doors and went to another Starbucks to lie in wait for his next potential lover.