I’m carefully trying to size up the interplay with the Middle East oil men. In a language I can’t understand, they argue amongst themselves. I can tell that the guy I figure to be the boss-man is mad at the interpreter. After more angry foreign words are exchanged, the interpreter turns back and says irritated, “How about twenty thousand a week?”
Again I shake my head side to side. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
Then he ups it again, “Thirty thousand a week?”
Again I reply, “Nope.”
Frustrated with me, and I can tell his boss is very irritated with him for not securing the deal, he finally says, “How about a million dollars?”’
Mind you, he didn’t say if that was by the week, but again I shake my head, “No thank you.”
Thoroughly frustrated and irritated, they throw down their forks, lapped napkins, toss another stack of bills on my table, and without finishing their dinner, they get up and leave.
There are so many bills tossed at me, I figure they must be ones or fives but, they are all fresh, crisp one hundred dollar bills!