Love in the time of Econ Crisis

  I met you in a crowded room. The room was crowded with egos. The real people were few.
It was one of these posh bars where people drift after a hectic days work. It was definitely a good bar, politically correct cocktails, a bit dry and deprived of any risk, apart from the calculated ones. Men-in-suits kind of place. Loose ties, loose minds. Nobody dared bother you, even if they worked next door during office hours. That is, unless you wanted to.
  You were sitting on a bar stool. Quite alone, although half the people in there were or used to be your employees, as I realised later on. For, I had seen you around, but could not place you yet, as I leaned on the almost deserted bar to order a Bombay tonic.
  I was alone and not lonely, I was not living or working in that part of town, I usually disliked posh bars, and had no idea what I was doing there. Ah, waiting for an acquaintance that would eventually not show up - that's how great love stories usually begin.  
  I sat a couple of stools away from you, sipping my comfortable drink. You were playing with your blackberry or something like that. Occasionally, you exchanged few words with the bar tender. You voice was sweet and generally pleasant and caught my mind and body into a swirl. You talked nonsense with the poor working class person, you had that friendly yet arrogant tone, you knew your stuff when it came to financial matters, everyone seemed to be talking about the Econ Crisis these days, even single minded middle and low class people.
  At least, that's how I perceived your deliberately elitistic and highly elaborate yet purely neoliberal scrap of information, that the bar tender tried to digest. After all, you talked numbers, but to the poor soul, it was translated into poverty. That bar tender was a clever swine after all. He refilled your glass of what seemed like some rare malt, and quietly withdrew in the background. He definitely seemed intimidated. 
  Your sweet yet ruthless voice died down, and that's when I had to turn my head to take a better look at you. You don't sit next to an econocrat every day, at least not in my pluralist and humanitarian circle of friends and colleagues. It was a unique opportunity to actually observe another kind of human, the sub-species of men in power. It was intriguing to solemnly observe, I din't actually care to meet you, for your previous speech was dried of empathy and consideration for the oppressed masses, which is the rest of us, common people.
  I was half way through my drink when I turned my head to take a look. You caught my eye and smiled. I have to admit that your sweet voice matched your nice smile, so had to smile back, and say hello. You realised I recognised you, and waited few seconds in silence, probably to give me time to realise I recognised you and hopefully ask, just like the bar tender did, for some valuable financial data, but I did not. I did not know what to say and could not care less for advice, but have to admit, I wanted to hear you talk. We could talk about the weather, but that could be my field of catastrophe, because to us, environmentalists, weather translates to climate change.
  So I kept quiet. We are getting poorer, sicker and depressed every day, it would seem unfair to spoil the relaxed happy hour on repeating the evening news. I know this was a selfish thought, since you were directly involved in the evening news paranoia, but I was trained, after years of psychotherapy, to concentrate on positive thoughts. I had to deprive you of your field of connaissance. Or simply try and see what lies behind that spineless dry elitistic mind of yours, for it would be highly unfair for a man of high knowledge and education and the sweetest of voices and smiles, to be exactly what they look like.
  Your voice sounded again. You wanted to know whether I came there often. You had not seeing me around. Was I in the news industry? I smiled, for I enjoyed the tone of your voice, but no, I was not one of yours. I was a mere nobody. Not corrupted or sold out in the least. Of course, you ceased smiling, but you did not look offended. And most importantly, you did not try to convince me otherwise. I appreciated the honesty and apologised for my harsh comments. You said it's OK, everyone hates media people as well as bank managers. And you were a bit of both. I added that I used to agree with your neoliberal position, but now everything is real and not theory, it is somehow affecting our lives, so we have to be careful when we express super right wing opinions, for numbers and casualties are people, after all. You smiled again, but did not try to intimidate me, or shower me with facts and figures. You recognised me, for I was brought up on elitism as well, a sad legacy that I carry around like a birthmark.
  My stomach (where the third chakra resides) was sending faded signals to the mind, that this arrogant middle aged man was not the right man, and that the heart was not equally involved in the game. I sighed. What the fuck. Another game of the mind, then. I took a deep breath, and said, I had to be going, for my acquaintance was nowhere to be seen. You looked somehow disappointed, but did not try to persuade me to stay.
  I paid for my drink. My third chakra congratulated me on my quick reflexes. And then, you stood up and offered me a ride home. I lived down town. You lived in the suburbs. It was the least you could do, you said, since your presence was not sufficient to make me want another drink.
  I lingered for a couple of seconds. The chakra was numb and silent. What now? What were you saying now? Oh that voice...if you could shut up for a moment, to let me think! But it was going on and on about that drink and the pleasure of my company and all that unnecessary bullshit that men say to get laid, but you were not just any man, you were a man with a voice that had the ability to turn a woman on and you would not shut up!
  We were both standing by the bar, pretty close to each other, so I leaned over and kissed you. That shut you up momentarily.
  I sat right beside you and agreed to have another drink.