a meeting with my mistress
Every morning she wakes up early, straps on her heels and her sophisticated smile, and rushes out the door.
She returns around 5 in the evening, as I’m running out the door in black pants and a blouse, apron and corkscrew in my bag, so that I can go bartend all night.
Our schedules cut down on our time together, something we both savor. So today I packed up a lunch, got on the subway, and made my way out of our neighborhood to the corporate world downtown.
Usually I spend my days in the park or at the beach, so being in the heat of the city, surrounded by suits and fast walking smokers felt unusual.
I felt out of place with my relaxed strut, flip flops and short skirt. I sat on the steps of my friend’s building listening to Pink Floyd, and watched the hustle and flow of people.
Eventually my friend joined me, and we feasted on fresh salads, tortilla chips and fruit on a private patio area. I marveled at the height of the buildings, danced around barefoot, and felt invigorated by the beauty of the day and my good company.
It was a nice break in routine for the both of us.
In the elevators I jokingly grabbed her bottom, because everyone looked so serious, only to find her boss was inches away.
I then left my lovely, flushed roomate at work, and dragged my dirty feet through the city and made my way home.