Maria outside Pfizer

Last night, as I was getting ready to leave from work, Maria answered my call. As I readied to leave, her call got me by surprise because I didn’t expect a girl to answer a prayer on a weekend night, especially Saturday. I had already had my surprise for the day: I wouldn’t have to stay working a double shift until Sunday morning as I was scheduled to do, because the job I had agreed to had been canceled. That was quite comfortable to find, for I rather much go home and vegetate than stay through the night working. I don’t like night shifts even though I work whatever shift comes my way, I loathe nights working. Going back to my previous scene, the phone call, Maria, remember? Oh, yeah, I left her waiting to be written. What a pleasant surprise. More than pleasant, a bit surreal. Come to think of it, several occurrences have taken place throughout the year and I guess this is one of the reasons I insist on writing them down here. Now, to excuse myself, I have very little time to do this and not to mention I should be working (which I am). When I finally get back to Maria, waiting for me only in the passages of these lines, she said: “I’m on 42nd street and Second avenue, outside Pfizer. Of course, we hadn’t convened to meet up and she was not there to surprise me either with her presence. She had agreed to meet some friends on a nearby bar across the street from where I work. I calmly told her to wait out there for me to say hi. I greeted her rather coldly, I must admit. But it was due to the nature of the turning of events (there goes my syntax). She looked gorgeous. She had this nice cut jeans that showed off her glorious behind and her white milky skin exhales a tender, lethal perfume. We locked lips and I saw as she left. Not happy with my performance which had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me perhaps stranded there having to go home when I could have made time to be spent with her. Not regret, either, now that I rationalize it. I thought it was so great to have her there and then that all I needed to do then was make my way back home, buy a six pack of top of the line beer favorite beer, frosted cold Negra Modelo, and sit back and enjoy the magnificent coincidence (I make no excuse here, as I don’t believe, like most intelligent individuals, in such thing) listening to some great music. I had the intention of going back there. I was relieved earlier but I didn’t think it would have been polite to do so. Besides, I had already been granted a great deal of metaphysical luck and I could draw from it without the need of spoiling the turning of events anytime I wanted.