Beauty and the Beast

Having lunch at a restaurant the other day, I couldn’t help noticing the couple on the table close by. She was young, thin, tall, had dark hair and Latin features. She was pretty, I mean very pretty. He had Latin features also, and nothing else similar to her. He was a shorty, swollen, chubby Mexican.

A third person arrives and sits down with them. He was certainly an American and probably a lawyer. I always thought that lawyers smelled differently. That one seemed to be on the border between the legal with the not-so-legal. Thus he smelled even worse.

Curious, I moved my seat a little closer to them and heard parts of their conversation.

The chubby Mexican would say: How much is that going to cost? … How much is that going to cost? .... It was the only thing he asked.

The lawyer talking to the girl: Have you ever been married? … Have you ever been convicted of felony? … What is your actual status?

The girl, in the entire time, said only a couple of phrases that I didn’t understand and apparently neither did they. She spoke English very poorly.

Based on what it looked like, the chubby Mexican was a naturalized citizen and was bringing the girl to live here on an arranged marriage. It seemed to be what they call a win-win deal. She would earn a lawful permanent resident status, and he would have that beautiful woman beside him.

The lawyer was the only one that was there for love. Love for the money.