Cafe Witness

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Unwanted Advances in the Business Section

I went to Borders this evening but their cafe was closed. Left to my own devices, I wandered back to the business section, hoping to find something worth perusing in the "web marketing" section that, alas, exists only in my mind.

Instead, I found a book on getting out of debt (hey, topicality!) and paced back and forth for about fifteen minutes while I skimmed the entirety of the volume. (In the interest of fair promotion, the book was "Pay It Down! From Debt to Wealth on $10 a Day", and it was yet another common sense guide to money for people who lack both.)

When I was done, I replaced the book on the shelf and turned to leave when a guy I hadn't previously noticed addressed me directly. "You seemed pretty engrossed in that book," he said. "Anything interesting?"

"A few things," I said, purposely as vague as possible.

This exchange led to a discussion of business books, personal finance management and the merits of paying bills online versus paying them in real space. As I made my move to leave, out came the question: "Have you ever considered starting a side business to bring in some extra money?"

"All the time," I answered.

This led to the long-awaited Pitch to Meet for Lunch at a Later Date So as to Discuss an Important Business Opportunity.

He gave me his business card, took down my email address, and said, "And if you decide it's something you're not interested in, there's no pressure and no time wasted."

Except for the part where I sit through someone's pyramid scheme over lunch and claw at the walls of my mind.

So let's save us both even more time, Mr. Business Section Lurker, and agree that I'm not interested even now.

Unless it's porn.


  • You're going to be in a porn? Will you use an assumed name? Hmm... How about Bob Oddball?

    I sometimes lurk in the business section, hoping that someone will just look over at me and think, "Now THIS guy looks like he's a successful and creative man." They'll note this because of my frayed jeans, my glaring red sneakers, my shirt with just a trace of baby puke wiped hastily off the neck.


    By Blogger Chris, at 5:41 AM  

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