“A little bit of both.” I smiled and gave her a deep stare, which seemed to have her eyes mesmerized, locked onto mine as she reached for the stamp without flinching or even looking down to make sure that she was grabbing the right object. She then gave a hard stamp on the last page of my passport. Her clear, sky-blue eyes scrutinized me further. “You travel a lot. What do you do for a living?” Her business-like tone had a tinge of playfulness in it. Without batting an eyelash, I responded to her, “I’m an importer of rare objects.” Amongst other things, I thought as I thanked her, reaching under the window to get my passport that had a piece of paper underneath it, sealing our conversation with a slight wink and a mischievous smile before clearing my throat and then proceeding towards the exit. As far as I could remember, my uncle had always told me that women and money were the easiest things to achieve in this world; to maintain them was the hard part.
