A DECENT PROPOSAL

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The pretty young thing was idling her scooter at the traffic lights, next to my car, minding her own business, when the handsome young thing rode up.

He coasted to a halt next to the girl, doing his best to look nonchalant. Nonchalance under the circumstances was difficult, because there was considerable space in front of him and he had little explanation for pulling in right next to the girl.

She glanced at him quickly and looked away. She had her own code of nonchalance but the corners of her lips indicated a frisson of titillation.

A driver behind honked angrily once or twice. He was impatient because it was rush hour, but then he resigned himself to waiting behind the young man.

The girl looked annoyed at the honking. This I took to be an expression of solidarity with the handsome stranger. It was not lost on him.

He leaned across and asked her the time. Without looking at him, she replied haughtily: “Why don’t you look at your own watch!”

Stung by her skills of observation, the lad fell silent. He fussed with his mirror. This trifling of time must have been hard to handle for the girl because she abruptly turned to the young man and asked: “So what’s your name?”

He almost dropped his bike: “Rahul”, he replied “what’s yours?”

“Sangeeta.”

“Sangeeta are you free now for a coffee?”

“No.”

“Maybe later?”

“No. Maybe now.”

The light turned to green. Rahul and Sangeeta sped away from plain sight.

And somewhere in Bangalore, sat two very angry bosses trying to run a business in this time of romance.

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