Picking up the tab, and the waitress.

The other night at the bar, I waited on a table of three men and one woman. They were there for three or four hours, spent about AR$300.

Toward the end of the evening, the woman gestured for me to follow her down the hall. It's quieter back there, so I figured she needed to tell me something important, though I couldn't fathom what that might be.

"My English isn't very good," she said, which, of course, means that it's fine. She proceeded to explain that her friend, not the one in the hat but the other one, wanted me to call him, and he put his number on this bill. However, if I should decide not to call, I should take care to scratch out the number, since he doesn't want just anyone calling him. Understandably.

She handed me the five-peso bill (that's just a little more than one US dollar, for those keeping track at home) with his number on it, and the party of four left the bar.

Three things:

• I´m not going to call, because I'm blissfully coupled already, thank you. 
• If you wanted me to call, it would´ve been nice had you made some sort of effort to smile at me and say "Adiós" as you left.
• If you wanted me to call, you should´ve written that number on a $50.