Won't stop rambling

I was pretending to read a book when I heard footsteps coming towards me. Suddenly the place doesn't smell like coffee anymore but an unmistakable scent that was oh-so-familiar. I took a peek, and was a bit disappointed that it was a complete stranger. He smirked a bit. I decided then, I hate people who smirked.

He said hello and introduced himself. I muttered a somewhat appropriate greeting and continue to read.

"You like to read?" he asked. No shit sherlock. "Yeah when I have the time, which I don't" I replied hiding my face to prevent anymore contact. It failed miserably when he continued asking about the books I read, and asked if I read magazines. "I read everything I guess, whatever that grabs my interest,"

"I see. Well I work for GQ magazine," and that ladies and gentleman, caught my interest.

"Are you a writer?" I asked. Please say yes. "Nope, I'm the graphic designer," Oh well.

"Cool job," I said and back to Chopin. Yeah not a chance, he started rambling.

Here's what I gather (remembered). His blood is a fascinating mixture of 5 races. He hasn't decided his religion. He had been all over the world. He owns a chihuahua, which he uses to pick up chicks. Have a CELTA certificate. His job pays him 15k and provides an apartment with a killer view. Yep, he showed me photos. More ramblings about his wealth.

Then he started telling me about his girlfriends. Plural, mind you. This is the point where it gets extremely awkward and uncomfortable. Words like sneaking in, being caught doing acts, naked and boxers was uttered. I can't look at him at that point. I looked at my watch, and pretended to be late. Thank you White Rabbit for being an inspiration.

A week later, he added me on Facebook. I looked at the mutual friends, and hot-diggoty-dang. Stupid small world.

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