Paul Egger decided to walk to Goethe’s from the university at Seventh Avenue and Forty-Fifth. Goethe’s was a multi-language bookstore located in the Chapinero district, the heart of Colombia’s capital city. It shouldn’t take longer than twenty minutes, he told himself; besides, the exercise would do him good.

He loved walking in the noisy city during early morning hours on weekdays after having taught his first English class of the day, the 6 to 8a.m. class.  His next class was scheduled for 11:30, so, he had about three hours to kill.

Paul liked to window shop even though he had to watch his spending. It was easy to buy something just for the sake of buying. The junk one accumulated in no time at all! Some days he had all this stuff in his room like watches, old coins and pocket knives, but no money. And he hated running out of money! But, as he lived alone, it was nobody’s fault but his. Who did he think was spending it?

He turned down Fifty-Seventh. It had the full, lovely palms that were not really characteristic of the capital city with its cool climate. Nevertheless, they were obviously old palms and, therefore, had proved to be sturdy.

At Thirteenth, he cut north for the two blocks to Fifty-Ninth. The bookstore had been located there for years. One could buy all kinds of books in six different languages. Trinity, a Colombian, was its manager. She was fluent in English and was very capable and attractive. After he’d learned she was single, he always made it a point to make eye contact when saying hello as he entered the store. Today was no exception.

Trinity was anything but dull. She knew which customers were regular, whether or not they were foreign, how much they usually spent and how to coddle them. When Paul was ready to pay for the three English-language paperbacks he’d selected, Trinity gave the cashier a quick errand and handled Paul’s purchase herself.

“Nice to see you again,” she said, smiling. Paul loved her smile and abundant red hair. Red hair wasn’t that common in these parts.

“Same,” he replied, getting his money ready. “By the way,” he added, “would you like to have lunch one day soon?” It had been hard for him to get up the courage to ask, but now it was finally out.

“Umm, let me see,” she said, looking toward the door to see if the cashier was returning. “We’re so busy here, you see. Let me think about it and I’ll let you know.” She smiled again. A winning smile, it was.

Paul took his books from Trinity. “No problem,” he said and walked out of the bookstore whistling. “What a woman,” he told himself.