“Sure,” he said, “and then his eyes whipped to the vision behind me. “Can I help you, if it’s quick?”
“I also want to know if I qualify for a new phone,” she purred.
“Well, if it’s OK with the gentleman,” he suggested, “I can check out your details at the same time.”
So, we trooped over to the table with the computer on it, and sat down together. Starting with the lady, at my request, he asked for her name and address to input into the database. While the stalker in me was making a mental note of her answer, the scriptwriter in me was thinking what a great romantic opener this would be: two strangers coming together at random, learning each other's name and address in an instant. We were sitting together as he worked, making easy small talk, but then the guy serving us began checking out my details.
“Mr Whyman," he paused to cough uncomfortably, "you’re on a talk-plan of 15 minutes a month, right?”
He flattened his lips in pity.
“Are you happy with that?” he asked, as I began to blush. “It’s a very low tariff.”I glanced at my new friend. She wouldn’t meet my eye.
“It’s fine,” I admitted quietly, upon which she braved looking at me -in the same way you might look at a faithful pet whose about to be put down. “I don’t have many friends.”
A moment later, her phone began to ring. I bailed before she had finished with the call.