Juan is in love with three Ukrainian sisters who live down the hall from him. Since going blueberry picking with them one Sunday he's been trying to win one, if not all, of their affections. But he is a fool, he said over and over. One night he drove downtown and parked in front of a nightclub where a man was selling plastic roses that would light up from the inside. He got three - a blue one, a red one, and a purple one - one for each sister. He was a fool, he repeated. He wanted to present the roses in an elaborate shell game where each sister picked a number between one and twenty and whoever was closest picked first, the second closest second, and so on. I was so ashamed, he said. Over the next few days he saw each sister separately, so their gifts were staggered. None of them seemed impressed. None of them said thank you. He thinks it's probably because he's dark-skinned that they don't like him. He says they are gorgeous and pale; the eldest sister is by far the prettiest. They like Ukrainian best guys I bet, he said.