Hello, it's me

Hello, it's me

Life is full of excitement and fun if you (that means me and everybody else who wants to be like me!) really know how to see and think. Your "dialogues" with the two nitwits were actually a lot of fun. You were serious, somber, rhetorical, and sarcastic while they frantically looked for any cheap shots at you and unwittingly revealed their ignorance and stupidity.

Where you live the weather is in full spring. Trees start getting green again, with buds shooting out in a hurry and the temperature is warm and the air is fresh. And you feel hot blood coursing through your veins and happy. You had your body fat content measured yesterday. It was 23%. The health club clerk told you it was very good for the person of your age, height, and weight. She was even flirting with you a bit after learning about your age. She demanded to see your ID and asked you about your marital status. You told her you were married for the tenth time and was looking for number 11 to fill up your harem. She raised her eyebrows and squealed, " for real?" Some women are delightfully gullible. But wait a minute, it could be you who were and are still gullible. Wasn't her squealing a tad much on the high note and her eyes seemed to bore straight at yours for any detection of lying and bullshitting? She could just play at you after noticing your 2012 Maserati GranTurismo in the parking lot and your furtive glances at her oversize knockers. But you tell yourself you can handle her. You now regard yourself quite worldly and "sophisticated" after a rash of unpleasant experiences with women. You are no longer naive and trusting.

The euphoria generated by the good news about your body fat content and the brief flirting with the health clerk promptly dissipated after two distasteful email messages appeared in your inbox. Monkeys, especially the cowardly power-hungry, self-righteous, commie ass-kissing, and self-important ones, love to strut around with their prehensile tails raised high revealing their ugly reddish posteriors. Little did they know by doing so they just lower themselves in your eyes and enter your little black book.

Self-righteous, self-important Vietnamese folks are everywhere
I can smell them in the air
Winds carry their scent from afar
Los Angeles, D.C, and even Auckland in New Zealand
They think they're respectable
But in my book they're execrable
And nothing but a bunch of commie ass-kissing cowards
I wonder if they ever feel in their hearts
The beauty and bravery of the following quivering words
Spoken with fiery determination and passion-imparted:
"Let's go, you and I together, even in fetters or tarred with feathers
To the public square, with our wounded hearts and pride,
Showing the world we have no fear of death
And in the name of freedom and dignity to our last breath we cry
Come, my friends and countrymen, let's go!"

You just took another good look at yourself in the mirror and boy, did you look good! The exercise, the meditation, and the diet are having positive results. No wonder Yvette keeps saying, "Roberto, you're so damn sexy these days. What's the secret? Please tell me."

You know Yvette is lusting after and salivating at you, but you will never yield to her relentless flirting. The woman is too cheap, too sanctimonious to your liking. The meditations and readings about Buddhist teachings help you keep things in perspective. This gorgeous body of yours is slowly disintegrating. You will finally look old and decrepit and your Johnny will not be able to rise up and salute the sun in the morning. You're preparing yourself for that day.

Two nights later, you got some of the equilibrium back after a free spendid dinner, replete with quail, Alaska King crab legs, salmon, filet mignon, wine and fine dessert, at the courtesy of Yvette. She later asked you if you wanted to help her draft a will over coffee at her house in Summerlin. You replied that you only had two years of law school and would not do proper justice to the task. She laughed, saying, " Don't be silly. We'll just do the preliminary work.Of course the lawyer will finetune the details. Let's go. Just leave your car here. It will be fine with casino valet, right? Even if it's a Maserati."

Her car was no slouch itself, a 2010 E350 Mercedes, running smooth as silk, purring through the streets in a Sunday night. We passed through a gate after the security guard waved her through.

You supposed Yvette was trying to impress me with her wealth since you didn't appear to be overly impressed by her looks and personality. You had known her for a year at a poker table. Her ex-husband was a former American colonel in U.S. military intelligence. He dumped her for another Vietnamese. Yvette used to own a jewelry store. She was used to living quite high on the hog, but she was not really generous. Her seeming generosity always covered up a calculation. She was attracted to you right away as she was lonely and you were good at talking with lonely women. When she first met you, you just arrived in town, after getting a fifth divorce after being married for five years. There was no children with the woman, one good thing for you. The divorce cost you a tidy sum, though not as grand as some of the others. You rented a room with a symbolic rent from a high-rise condo from Omar, college friend who did good in the stock market and other business ventures. He constantly travelled, leaving the Maserati with you to take care of. You told Yvette the whole story about the Maserati, explaining to her that you were only its caretaker, not the owner. Omar was in Argentina, tidying up some inheritance from his aunt.

After you helped her draft the will (Yvette's net worth totaled only around $2 million. She left much of it to her only child, a married woman with three kids. With the way she was gambling, she would be lucky to be left with $100,000 within 3 years), she and you shot the breeze. You then brought up the emails. She was furious with the email writers. She said, "Screw them, Roberto. Who did the motherfuckers think who they were? You did the right thing. You are too good a man to associate with assholes like them. Stay away from them. And fuck the one who gave you the cheap shot. What's the motherfucker's name again? Do you want me to do something about it?" You laughed out loud, reaching for Yvette's hands, squeezed them and said softly said to her "What are you gonna do? Cuss them to death?" You knew Yvette. She loved theatrical and grandiose gestures. In her heart, she was an opera actress, resplendent in all times with bygone era costumes and taken away by her singing and accompanied music. "By the way, thanks for a provision in your will. I don't think I will live long enough to enjoy it." " You're welcome, dear. You never thought I cared about you, right?". By now, she was in your arms, resting her head against your chest.

You did not love Yvette. You only felt lonely and disturbed by the emails. Heck, you were human. You had feelings. You were a fiction writer and a poet, albeit mediocre and unpublished. You were touched by Yvette's seeming caring gestures. Then incongruously you recalled a news article about Captain Peter Linnerooth and you felt strong and recharged and you saw the motherfuckers for who they were: a surge of contempt swept over your body and soul. You got up, saying, "I've got to go. Got to get some sleep. Thanks for everything. I really do." "But you can get sleep here", Yvette weakly protested. You smiled, and tenderly said to her, "No, I couldn't. Too early. But thanks. Be careful. See you later. I could take a cab back."

The night was pleasant. It was not cold. The air was fresh. Stars twinkled and scintillated up high. Things purred and rumbled down below. You felt strong and whole. You would move on and up. There was money to be made, your body to be taken care of, poems to be written, and books to be read. This life, this only life offered to you, was good. You were blessed for having a mind and a heart. Maybe you would give it a try and see how Yvette would look without any clothes on the next time out with her.

Hello, it's me. Life's great. It's all a very short game. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Wissai
March 18, 2018