There was no-one on the hotel terrace when I got there early this afternoon. A few minutes after I sat down, a fellow came to the terrace and sat down a few tables away from me. We exchanged greetings. I do not know his name, but I know him rather well. About ten years my junior, he has worked on many a construction site in Motovun the last few years, and we have been exchanging greetings for a year or maybe two. When the waitress appears, I order my drink, and I tell her that his drink is on me, as well. When he gets his drink, he raises his glass toward me by way of thanks. A while later he offers me a drink, but I tell him that I am fine. Before long, he gets up from his chair and joins me at my table. He orders another drink, but I tell him that I am still fine when he offers to return my favor once again. As we chat, a bunch of young women from the town sit at a neighboring table. He points at the prettiest one among them and winks at me. “This is how I would squeeze her ass,” he raises both of his hands in the air and works his fingers with gusto, grinning at me all the while. I grin back at him, and take a long sip from my glass. When the waitress appears again, he calls her to offer the young women a drink. A short while later I empty my glass, get up from my chair, pat him on the back, and wish him all the best. Who says social classes are no more?!