"You need couch? I would like to buy you this. It will be for you a gift."
I didn't know what to say. Noticing my hesitation Hans continued to explain himself.
"I ask for nothing. I just wish to help. You know, like a sugar daddy but no sex deal. I am an old man. I do not love you, but I very much like you a lot. A couch is a small thing for such a like."
No sex deal?! Dear Lord, what do I say now? Conveniently, kitchen yells my name and I quickly escape to run food to a large party across the restaurant. This table is needy and I spend more time than usual opening ranches, refilling drinks and generally sucking up to them and their $200 tab. I notice Hans leave as I run another round of drinks to the tables. He smiles and waves, pointing to the table as he shuffles out the door.
Making my way to the table I can see the hundred-dollar bill well before I am close enough to grab the one empty Miller Lite - the only thing he ordered. His email is scrawled carefully across one edge of the bill accompanied by a note:
The couch you shall have. Too pretty to sit on floor. You email after shopping and I buy for you with no questions.
I still don't have a couch.