Max

On a warm Saturday evening, you and three friends stopped at a new Italian restaurant downtown. You ordered pasta and wine, chatted, and laughed—a typical, pleasant evening.

Around midnight, we went outside to decide where we were going. Then a guy in a black Mercedes at the entrance asked to meet you. Relaxed from the wine, you, instead of being embarrassed, said:

— Mercedes is crap. If you want to meet people, get a BMW.

The girlfriends burst out laughing, the guy was taken aback, but he smiled, shouted “I’ll take that into account!” and drove off.

I woke up this morning and there was a message on my phone from an unknown number:

"Hi, it's the one with the Mercedes. I thought about what you said and bought a BMW. I'm standing under your window. Shall we go for coffee? I'll put you behind the wheel, open the door, buy you flowers, feed you wherever you want. Anything you want. Just say yes. I'm Max."

You read it five times. There really is a new car outside. A prank or a crazy romantic? Your heart sank—you have to give credit to such persistence.