Last year on Black Friday, I got more than I bargained for when I was en route to the Plaza to brave the crowds with my to-do list in tow. My dutiful little car, Ruby, sputtered and spiraled to a halt right in front of a dry cleaner in downtown.
The sky was dark and there was a powerful storm coming in fast overhead. The clouds opened up and the sky began to roar with wild abandon. As I sat there looking up at the ominous sky, I reached for my phone and discovered that I had “no service”. As I contemplated my next move, my mind was dwelling on the elements that were charging above me.
I instinctively drifted off into more sensual thoughts. I zeroed in on how it was absolute perfect weather for primal fucking. It’s quite easy to become entranced and fall prey to such an all-consuming force. (Don’t you think?)
Sadly, my sensual thoughts began to dissipate when dime-size hail started ricocheting off of Ruby’s roof. I pulled my pashmina over my head and made a dash for the dry cleaner. I was greeted (more like grunted at) by a rude woman standing behind the counter. It was obvious that she was not feeling warm and fuzzy about the dreary weather or yours truly. I was soaking wet and a sizeable puddle was forming beneath me on her shop floor. I didn’t even bother asking if I could use her telephone. Instead, I leisurely pumped my umbrella up and down the entire length of her counter before I meandered out of there.
I strategically continued to scurry along the sidewalk, ducking and dodging the pelting rain as I attempted to stay beneath the eaves of each building. I was starting to get a bit discouraged when the most delectable aroma started wafting through the damp air. I found myself staring across a parking lot at a massive red and black front door of a Chinese restaurant.
The place looked dark, except for a few strands of blinking twinkle lights in the windows. At that point, I had nothing to lose, so before I thought about trudging back to my car in the freezing cold and having to resort to asking a random passerby for help, I thought that I might as well take a look to see if anyone was around.
Standing at the front door, I peered inside. I could see rows of black tables with jars of chopsticks, napkin dispensers and bottles of soy sauce neatly arranged on them. There was a bit of light filtering in from the kitchen but there was no hint of life.
Suddenly a tallish man with the most beautifully smooth, shaved head and well- defined arms emerged from the back of the restaurant and sauntered toward me. He paused a few feet from the door, and surveyed the parking lot for a sign of anyone else, before he swiftly opened the door and ushered me in with a reassuring wave of his large, masculine and very capable looking hand. This stoic looking gentleman didn’t seem to mind the trail of water that accompanied me inside. I remember thinking to myself: this is the place I was meant to find. This man will help me.
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