So, for the past two weeks, there was this really hot chick wandering about the museum offices where I work. The staff is a tad too big to keep up to date with everything all the time, so I kept wondering "who is she, where does she come from, where is she going?". I haven't managed to strike up a conversation till yesterday.
"Strike" is actually a pretty good word. Strike one was when I overheard a conversation between her someone else- and that other person explained to her what Ramadan is (note: This is the Museum for Islamic Art). Strike two came half an hour later. I was on my way down the hallway, passing by the copying machine.
She: Uh, do you know how this thing works?
Me: (eyeing a standard model copying machine. You know, the type that has a big round glowing green button saying "start" next to it) Is it turned on?
She: They got one upstairs but you need to enter a code or something. I don't have a code. Do you know if it's the same here?
Me: Let's see...
I press the big round glowing green button saying "start" next to it. The machine turns on and displays the main menu.
She: Oh.
With so little in her pretty head, I don't think it will be hard to score.