Valentino! Valentino! I heard off in the distance but ignored the voice because of reasons. Either he didn't hear or also ignored the guy. But he didn't answer. So the guy, using his cigar as an introduction to his interruption, then wedged himself between us. I had to lean back and away to avoid sharing intimate space and/or being burned by the lancero.
No "Excuse me" or "Do you have a second?"
When my boy was younger, I only needed to give him the look and he stopped in his tracks, any thought of interrupting gone.**
I tried that look on this guy and...nothing. He just puffed away, chatting about...nothing. Nothing!
I did a mental facepalm, a mental palm to his face, and accepted that social cues weren't going to work.
The joy of the cigar lounge--one of many--is that it isn't a regular bar, where folks drink to get drunk and music is set to kick ass at all times. Generally, the majority of cigar lounge patrons aren't drinking and the music is set low so people can relax or have a quiet conversation, or none at all. The cigar lounge is a clubhouse of friends with exceptional manners, thanks to exceptional moms.
Those moms would not be happy with this guy, king of the interrupters.***
I guess I could have said something snarky; I certainly thought some most excellent comments. But, of course, I'd never say anything rude; my mom would somehow know and I'd get into so much silent trouble. After all, I learned the look from her.
*You're going to LOVE it!
**My mom always said not to bother her unless someone was bleeding or something was on fire.
***He should get a crown!!