The End Page 3     “Hi.” He kicks himself in the head in his mind. “Couldn’t I come up with something more original?” he thinks.   “Hi” She pauses to examine him. “So, what do you do? I mean, what’s your story?”   “Pardon me?” he did not expect this directness. He did not expect this penetration. He knows he must tease her curiosity. This is his only chance. He is competing with her novel; with her bubble world.   “I will give you five options. If you guess correctly, the cafe au laits are on me.” He raises his eyebrows seeking approval.   She is momentarily entertained. She is more optimistic about not having her usual book hangover. “OK.” She replies.    He holds out his left hand, fingers stretched. He points to each finger with his right hand as he goes through the options. “I am either... a banker... a Ph.D. student of Anthropology... a butcher..”    She giggles.    “...a writer...or a tour guide.”    She accepts the challenge and decides to carefully weigh her options. She thinks of the clues she has been given. He said cafe au laits with an impressive French accent. That could mean a well traveled banker, a well educated writer or a Ph.D. student. He could even be a tour guide that picked up the accent from French tourists. No, he definitely does not look like a tour guide. He seems too shy. If he is a tour guide, he must be an awful one. A banker would not be sipping coffee in the West Village on a weekday at noon. He seems too casual to hold a corporate job anyway.”    He interrupts her thinking.