I took it easy last night, was in bed eating strawberries and listening to Spanish guitar when I heard the ding-ding sound. It was him. Very busy, have a flight, fix me dinner, Juan is on the way.
I deleted the text and continued dissolving in Nouveau Flamenco when my Iphone started ringing. I silenced it and stretched.
It is almost midnight, I want honey and lemon juice over my strawberries, and the only open store nearby is Walmart. I would not risk going out after dark anyways since this area is not the safest. People sell and buy methadone in the parking lot, and this is actually the nicest thing that they do there. Good that Juan will be here shortly, I will send him shopping.
Juan is Greg’s new driver. Like everyone else who works for his majesty, the drivers normally have the expiration date similar to my coconut butter – about 2 weeks. Greg pays well, and they literary run away. Sometimes they stink, sometimes they talk, Greg puts up with everything, but they are unable to withstand his constant yelling.
The phone kept vibrating, 10 missed calls and 7 voicemails. The only thing that I know about guys is that if one leaves, another one emerges, and if no one emerges, it is not a big deal. Nothing is actually a big deal in this life. I do not like being treated like his housekeeper, or his wife, or his nurse. After all, I am a human being on my day off.
Juan knocked on my door 30 minutes later.
– Estoy aqui para recoger la cena, presiosa.
– Tell, Dr. W.,there is nothing to pick up, he can buy whatever he likes at the airport. – I sent him to Walmart with my grocery list, and he never came back. He was even worse than the previous driver. Tom smelled like a dead cat, but at least he was reliable.
Another text on my Iphone: Are you ok? Did Juan make it? Talk to me. I am worried now.
I turned off the phone and got dressed. I will drive to the store and get my honey with lemon. Putting him on hold. Reboot.