Sun Tzu's Art of Conversation

The Biker Teacher walked into Margins, the large discount books and music store. He was an average guy, but always felt more of a square peg in a round world. He liked to think he and Harrison Bergeron had a lot in common, except for the scrap metal. And the ear radio. And the spectacles. And the red rubber ball. Actually, Biker Teacher realized he didn't have much in common with Harrison Bergeron except that they both seem stuck in some surreal world of someone else's creation. Biker Teacher stopped thinking about it when a loud buzzer sounded in his head.

Once inside, the Biker Teacher surveyed the area. He carefully studied each book monger he saw. He was there specifically to look for one particular monger. Panning his view from right to left, the Biker Teacher searched for his prey. Aha, he spotted her.

Pierced Girl had her shoulder-length raven hair in two ponytails. She wore a black dress which seemed to be systematically torn vertically along the hem. She had a pierce brow and a lip ring. Biker Teacher wondered if perhaps she got her fashion cues from the movie Beetlejuice.

Now Biker Teacher is known for his wit and charm. However, he suffers from chronic shyness. He was diagnosed with this affliction after he realized that he resembled Goofy more than Mickey. So although he could think of a million things to say at any given point in time, he could never bring himself to actually say anything. That is, until today.

Biker Teacher's friend, Mr. Esquire, had given him several tips on the art of conversation. Mr. Esquire is a successful attorney. As everyone knows, attorneys need to be able to blow a lot of hot air in order to survive. That's because once they pass the bar, they sell their souls to Satan, and the empty cavity that used to house their souls now house fire and brimstone. If the attorney was not able to expel the heat of hades, they would suffer a core melt down much like Chernobyl.

Biker Teacher chuckled to himself, then realized he looked like a fool laughing to himself, so he soldiered on. He approached the lovely Pierced Girl and attempted to start a dialog.

"Hi. I just recently learned how to read. I've managed to get through several of Dr. Seuss's books and now I'm looking for something meatier. A friend suggested something by Terry Hatchet. Or Lachet. Was it Matchet?"

"Pratchett," Pierced Girl corrected.

"Yes, Pratchett. That's the ticket." Biker Teacher really did know it was Pratchett. He just feigned stupidity for the sake of starting a conversation. "Can you show me where his books are?" Biker Teacher asked.

"Sure. Follow me," Pierced Girl said as she gestured Biker Teacher to follow by curling a single digit. He noticed that the single digit was not only clean and well manicured, but it had an appealing set of proportions. Then he wondered why he was so fascinated by a finger. "Here they are," Pierced Girl pointed to a selection of books on a shelf at shoulder height. She really did have a lovely finger.

"Thank you. Now this may sound a bit forward, but I figure sometimes you need to take a chance. If that there cash register prints out a coupon for the Starbucks, could I buy you a coffee?"

"And what if it doesn't print out a coupon?" Pierced Girl giggled.

"Um, juice ok?"

Pierced girl let out a laugh and a half snort. She caught herself just before she fully snorted. "It's about time for my break anyway. I'll meet you at the Starbucks in five minutes. Get me something strong."

The coupon read: Take 30% off your next purchase of Folk Music CDs. The Biker Teacher didn't care. He was way too elated. The fat-guy-with-curly-hair could have rung him up for an entire encyclopedia set and the Biker Teacher wouldn't have noticed. He waltzed over to the next door Starbucks. He literally waltzed. Well, not so much a waltz, but an attempt at something resembling a dance. Biker Teacher was absent the day they taught grace.

A few minutes went by and the Pierced Girl arrived and sat next to him. He handed her a Latte. He had a fruit smoothie for himself. He was concerned about staining his teeth.

Now the pressure was on for the Biker Teacher. He managed to get the Pierced Girl to have coffee with him, but now he has to make a good impression in a short amount of time. He remembered Mr. Esquire's suggestion about looking for her choices on a Staff Picks.

"I didn't see any books under your name on the Staff Picks list," said the Biker Teacher.

"Oh. I didn't list any books. I did list a few CDs I like," replied the Pierced Girl.

"Ah. I've been meaning to expand my music library. What did you pick? Maybe I could buy it."

"AFI"

The Biker Teacher heard of this band before. "Aren't they a punk rock band? Why do you listen to crap like that?"

And there was a moment of silence. Biker Teacher realized he said something inappropriate, but he wasn't sure what. He thought back to something else that Mr. Esquire suggested. Mr. Esquire noted that females like to talk about themselves. It would be a good idea to get the topic of conversation focused on the girl, and to let her talk. This was a good idea. If Pierced Girl was doing the talking, and Biker Teacher tried his best to look interested, there should be little chance for more Hoof-in-Mouth disease. The Biker Teacher tried again.

"Errr, ummm. I've been meaning to ask, what ethnicity are you? I mean, you're very pretty, and I'm curious as to where you got that rather large nose of yours."

Pierced Girl seemed taken aback. Her body stiffened as she shifted away from the table. She seemed agitated. Biker Teacher was starting to worry. How could the conversation be going all wrong? Didn't he get good advice from Mr. Esquire? Wait a tick. Mr. Esquire mentioned that since Pierced Girl has piercings, she may have tattoos, and that could lead to more conversation.

"I'm sorry. That came out wrong. Please forget what I said. I love your piercings, by the way. Normally I think they look disgusting, but on you, they look great. You wouldn't happen to have any tattoos? Perhaps a small one on your inner thigh? Or even a bitch patch on your back?"

The corners of Pierced Girl's mouth turned south as she scowled. Biker Teacher is good at reading people. He noticed that something was bothering the girl. Perhaps Pierced Girl had a really ugly tattoo, and it embarrasses her to talk about it. What ever the reason though, Biker Teacher was worried. The conversation was taking a turn for the worse. Luckily he remembered Mr. Esquire's last bit of advice. A brilliant conversationalist would be able to keep everyone in the conversation. If someone was being left out, a simple question would help to bring them back in.

The Biker Teacher looked at the old man sitting on the next table. "Hey you! What the hell you looking at?" The old man looked frightened and confused. Pierced Girl's lower jaw hit the floor.

Mr. Esquire's advice failed to work. "Stupid Mr. Esquire, and stupid advice," Biker Teacher thought to himself.

"I have to get back to work," Pierced Girl declared and she hurried to gather her things.

"Would it be ok if I asked you out for coffee again some time?" asked the Biker Teacher.

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever. I'm in the yellow-pages," Pierced Girl's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Luckily the Biker Teacher was also absent the day they taught sarcasm. He sprang to his feet, pumped his fist, and shouted, "Yes!" Then he pranced to the door filled with amore.