Electrons, love, entanglements, fiddle-faddle and things of the sort

 The guy with the short brown hair and big copper toned eyes suddenly gazed transfixed, as if transported to another planet, towards a tall amazon queen who had just settled her sleek body into a chair in front him in the bar. His companion wiggled uneasily, almost cringing. 

    "Sorry, just can’t help myself," stammered the fellow, vainly trying to justify his sudden lack of attention. "It’s that woman... she’s got everything."

     Everything? The two middle-aged men had been talking about business, mundane subjects, how to get to the end of the month, assets versus liabilities, the financial crisis, whether red wine helps cure the heart. The woman in question was indeed a proud representative of the female part of the human race, although her dark sun glasses kept her eyes from sight. Still, her ample rounded and elastic hips provided a pretty good starting point for speculation.

    The bloke with the cringe was Francis and he was having lunch as usual with his workmake, Gaston, in a porteño bar just off Corrientes street in downtown Buenos Aires. Just for the record: Gaston was married. Francis was divorced.

    "If you were an electron you could take advantage of the marvels of quantum mechanics, you could be in two places at the same time," said Francis in a feable attempt to break his friend’s state of absolute loss of control over his rational brain functions.

     "Oh really?" Gaston’s infatuated and buldging eyes did not stop exploring the blond woman’s body for even a second.

      "Yea, there is something called ’entanglement.’"

     "Don’t tell me about that! I’ve had more entanglements than a Norwegian fisherman!"

     "O.K. But listen to how it works. Two electrons set up a kind of telepathic link that somehow transcends space and time..."

     "Hmmmmmm! Think I’ve heard that one before.!" Gaston took a deep breath and began to pay more attention to what Francis was saying.

     "Right. But you retain a quantum bond with your loved ones that endures no matter how far apart you may be."

      "Oh gosh! That sounds like Hollywood gush. Do you think there are any bonds linking me with that ’bomba’?"

      "Let’s not push the idea too far. Besides, there’s another aspect: It seems that the particles are incurably promiscuous. They hook up with any other particle they meet."

       "My God! That’s just what I’d...Now you’re talking!"

       "Wait a minute! You retain a quantum bond with every loser who ever bumped into you on a street, in the office, on a train, a bus...or wherever. The problem is that the bonds you want, say those of that blond woman over there, the ones you want I say, are overwhelmed by those you don’t give a hoot about. So entanglement foils entanglement, a rather decoherent process. Now if you were to brush up against her, that might change the flow of electron and therefore the entanglements might also be altered."

    "You seem to know a lot about this subject...Isn’t there a way to keep the entanglements you really want?"

    "There are but it sounds a bit old-fashioned to mention them."

    "Go ahead, no problem."

   "Well, scientists say the entanglements that electrons get involved with are sort of like what happens when a parent tries to control a teenager’s love life...isolating the particle from its envvironment, chaperoning it...

    "You haven’t answered my question! What you say is all very enlightening but it doesn’t explain my existential question: what do I have to do to pick up that blond?"

      "That depends on whether she is Argie or a gringo."

      "Is there really that much difference?"

      "Yea, entanglements down here get off to a start with the man asking the woman out for a beef steak and a good bottle of wine. The guy pays and from there on will have to  take the first step..."

      "You mean like....buying her flowers, asking about her family, inviting her to explore the fine paintings hanging on your bedroom wall.."

      "You said it. But don’t wait for her to take the first step. If so, you’d better become a monk."

     "What if she is from Kansas?"

     "Don’t say sweet things in her ear! Just smile a little and keep your distance. Sooner or later she will let you know. Oh. It always helps to get a little bit high. That’s the key for action."

     "Hmmm. I think I’m a bit more entangled than when we began this conversation. Anyway, speaking of entanglements, does the same thing happen in politics?"

      "Obvious. There are electrons everywhere, entanglements everythere. Should be no news that Gen. Roca used Reminmgton rifles imported from the U.S. to wipe out the indigenous populations in Argentina and give the land to his friends...and lots of the sons of those friends are pulling strings in the Rural Society even today... Should be no news that the U.S. has been ’entangled’ in wars ever since it broke away from England...while it sermons the world on peace and democracy"

      So the conversation took on a clearly political tone, but Gaston kept eying the blond as if she were a fish about to bite the hook. To quench his curiosity,  he suddenly fell silent, winked at Francis and nudged past the blond Amazon queen."

     "You might watch your step!" she complained in a honey dew voice.

     "I’m sorry Miss, ah...your hair is perfectly gorgeous...I wasn’t looking where I was going...I didn’t mean to touch you there...here, here’s my calling card, should there be anything I could do to repair the damage."

    "Waiter! Waiter!"

    "Oh waiter, could you please do me a favor? Could you please have this man removed? He is bothering me..."

    Electrons! Entanglement! The man rushed out of the bar in a huff, not taking time to think that in fact he had gotten entangled and that his future life would be conditioned by this entanglement...