I hate waking up to the sound of an alarm. It's something that I absolutely despise more than anything in this world. Wait, I think lesbian feminists make me cringe even more. But alarms do tend to fuck up my day royally. Don't get me wrong; I'm not sleeping in till midday. I've got my method that works every time. Before going to bed, I set the alarm for the time when I want to wake up. Usually, it's 5:45. And then I switch off my phone. My biorhythm works like a swiss watch. At 5:45 exactly. Like today, after a night of Netflix and solo drinking still got up early.
I look around my bathroom while taking a pee. Nice! I say out loud, content and slightly surprised at how tidy everything is. It kind of felt like somebody else cleaned it up.
I flush, shake it up a few times and go straight to the kitchen to fix myself a nice cup of coffee. In the meantime, I'm switching on my phone and looking over the kitchen window in the backyard of my residency. Ding! Ding! Ding! That must be either Mia's or Cassandra's messages. Correct, two missed calls from Mia and a voicemail from Cassandra.
Mia's style: to call two times and not even leave a message to say what she wants. I play Cassandra's message "bonjour Papi. It was a long flight, counting one hour delay and another hour to recover my luggage, which apparently they had somehow lost in the airport somewhere, but, in the end, it all turned out just fine. I met the chief of customs, Mr. Tareek, who offered to assist me in all this fukup! He was very friendly, courteous, and handsome! We had coffee and smoked shisha in the VIP lounge while his men looked for my luggage. Interesting fella. Do you know how much hashish they confiscated in this airport last year? Have a wild guess! 2 tons! He's got a lot of funny stories about foreigners trying to smuggle drugs; He told me a story about this one lady who hid her stash inside her dog, haha, basically shoved a lump of hashish into her dog's ass! And guess what? The dog took a dump just before the security check! And she tried to blame it on the dog! She got in real trouble with the animal protection association. Next time she better shove in her ass! Haha. Tarek is cool; we might hang out more around the town here. He seems to know a lot of people! So after an hour or so, I finally got my luggage, and Tareek walked me to the parking zone where my driver was waiting. Yeah, my client had his personal driver take me to the hotel. I think this guy must be a sheik or something; Tarek seemed somewhat familiar with him. They had a short chat in Arab; I didn't get a word. I'm staying at RIU Palace, and I just arrived; everyone is so lovely, oh Papi, and it is so hot... I'm going to get a massage tonight, I think... Kisses, bye."
Fuck! The Bialetti just erupted a blast of coffee all over the kitchen desk and walls. Fucking shit! I pour myself a large cup and throw the emptied Bialetti it in the sink to cool off, hazardous shit.
Cassandra was always a mystery, voluptuous as she was, charming with a large social circle. The type you'd love being around, always positive dynamic cool. She was always interested in others, listening to their stories, but she never went in depth about her past, how she felt about others, or revealed her inner world of tumult, desires, and dreams. That part was inaccessible, and just like now, when she travels thousands of kilometers to fulfill some mission, nobody knows any details whatsoever. Who hired her, and what for. As a superstar artist and Instagram influencer, she had been given all sorts of odd jobs, from performance art to simply hanging around at parties and taking pictures. She had her way of being 007 Cassandra, which made her even more charming.
I take a sip of coffee while calling Mia.
I look around my bathroom while taking a pee. Nice! I say out loud, content and slightly surprised at how tidy everything is. It kind of felt like somebody else cleaned it up.
I flush, shake it up a few times and go straight to the kitchen to fix myself a nice cup of coffee. In the meantime, I'm switching on my phone and looking over the kitchen window in the backyard of my residency. Ding! Ding! Ding! That must be either Mia's or Cassandra's messages. Correct, two missed calls from Mia and a voicemail from Cassandra.
Mia's style: to call two times and not even leave a message to say what she wants. I play Cassandra's message "bonjour Papi. It was a long flight, counting one hour delay and another hour to recover my luggage, which apparently they had somehow lost in the airport somewhere, but, in the end, it all turned out just fine. I met the chief of customs, Mr. Tareek, who offered to assist me in all this fukup! He was very friendly, courteous, and handsome! We had coffee and smoked shisha in the VIP lounge while his men looked for my luggage. Interesting fella. Do you know how much hashish they confiscated in this airport last year? Have a wild guess! 2 tons! He's got a lot of funny stories about foreigners trying to smuggle drugs; He told me a story about this one lady who hid her stash inside her dog, haha, basically shoved a lump of hashish into her dog's ass! And guess what? The dog took a dump just before the security check! And she tried to blame it on the dog! She got in real trouble with the animal protection association. Next time she better shove in her ass! Haha. Tarek is cool; we might hang out more around the town here. He seems to know a lot of people! So after an hour or so, I finally got my luggage, and Tareek walked me to the parking zone where my driver was waiting. Yeah, my client had his personal driver take me to the hotel. I think this guy must be a sheik or something; Tarek seemed somewhat familiar with him. They had a short chat in Arab; I didn't get a word. I'm staying at RIU Palace, and I just arrived; everyone is so lovely, oh Papi, and it is so hot... I'm going to get a massage tonight, I think... Kisses, bye."
Fuck! The Bialetti just erupted a blast of coffee all over the kitchen desk and walls. Fucking shit! I pour myself a large cup and throw the emptied Bialetti it in the sink to cool off, hazardous shit.
Cassandra was always a mystery, voluptuous as she was, charming with a large social circle. The type you'd love being around, always positive dynamic cool. She was always interested in others, listening to their stories, but she never went in depth about her past, how she felt about others, or revealed her inner world of tumult, desires, and dreams. That part was inaccessible, and just like now, when she travels thousands of kilometers to fulfill some mission, nobody knows any details whatsoever. Who hired her, and what for. As a superstar artist and Instagram influencer, she had been given all sorts of odd jobs, from performance art to simply hanging around at parties and taking pictures. She had her way of being 007 Cassandra, which made her even more charming.
I take a sip of coffee while calling Mia.
Before going to bed, I set the alarm for the time when I want to wake up. Usually, it's 5:45. And then I switch off my phone. My biorhythm works like a swiss watch. At 5:45 exactly
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