NO SERVICE 7:00AM 80%
My eyes open to the same darkness I fell asleep in the night before. I stand up to stretch my legs with the little space I have. I slept upright, legs tucked in like an embryo awaiting life in a womb – only, I was awaiting the opposite. My body is extremely sore, but it’s more than my sleeping arrangements that have me feeling pretzeled.
I’m the model the husband. Gone by early morning and back right as dinner was ready. My wife serving up plates, while my two beautiful daughters doing homework around the table.
I woke up every day at 6:30am to commute to my desk job in the city. Richmond, British Columbia was just south of Vancouver. It had the same hustle and bustle, but less prestige than the population up north known for it’s rioting, and overly-compassionate sports fans.
Speaking of sports, I’m huge on them. I played basketball, football, and even some softball in my day. I was entertaining some potential clients one night at BC Place Stadium, home of the BC Lions playing against my hometown Toronto Argonauts. I had all but forgotten about my meeting from the press box, infuriated my Argo’s were getting destroyed. I apologize to my clients and excuse myself to the restroom, I figure a little stroll will help clear my head. I streak down the stairs, in full businessman mode, 25% perception on the surrounding venue, the other 75% nose deep in my phone. Perhaps it’s the angry tweets I’m sending about the game that has me distracted, maybe it’s the lies I’m feeding my wife about how great the meeting is going, maybe it’s a few of the beers I had. Whatever the reason, my phone, nose, and dignity run right into a chest full of Ricky Ray Argonauts jersey. A shriek echoes throughout the stadium as I look up to assess the damage. A bronze-skinned women with long flowing hair, voluptuous frame and a circular face. Her arched eyebrows slant to form a defined wrinkle between her eyes, and I can feel the attitude radiating off of her posture as she removes her jersey and stands in front of me in a skimpy undershirt waiting for an explanation.
My mind races for an apology, but those words have been locked away. Instead, all that comes out of my barely separated lips is:
” you’re beautiful ” stupid, really stupid Carl is all I can think to myself.
Her expression drastically changes from annoyance to something of a blush.
“actually…” She says in a whisper,
” I’m Desiree ”