A friendly piece of advice if you want to offend someone: never start by saying "no offense, but...", and always make sure that what you're going to say is actually offensive.
30-something Eastern European looking man, dressed like a North
American stock broker, had been watching me from across the bar for an
hour before he sat down next to us, Stephanie and me. "Your sadness
intrigues me" he said, "I can always tell when a pretty girl is
unhappy". His Ballantine's breath formed a rain cloud around me as he
silently inspected every inch of my body. "I noticed your designer
beret" he said, "and no offense (!), but you need to stop trying to fill
that void with meaningless things".
As he pushed play on a five
minute monologue about rampant consumerism and saving the world (I'm
paraphrasing from the fragments I picked up through the noise) I tried
to fake an interest. My mother grew up in a society that had nothing,
where people waited in line for hours just to buy bread. When someone
calls the luxury that her money can pay for now "meaningless" I
automatically start planning over what part of their clothing I'm going
to pour my drink, just for the fun of it*.
*I picked the pants.