“Hey…can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh…okay…sure.”

He sat his sixth Mojito and self down next to her at the bar.

“I’m Oscar.”

“Tiffany.”

“Oh, like the singer?”

“Who?”

“Um…nobody.”

He tried to blink her into focus. “So….I like….your hair.”

“Really? It’s so frizzy and I tried newproductbutit’ssohumiditdoesn’tworkandI….”

He sighed and sipped.

Guys were easier.