Friday, March 6, 2009

Why did I come to Canada?! Part 5 of 27

I was so nervous, I did not want to meet him anymore, I did not wish to see him, and I wanted to go back. It was too late because he recognized me from the crowd and said hello, smiled and showed me his perfect teeth.

He was wearing a vintage brown leather jacket, black shirt and dark blue jeans, he was taller than I had expected, had an athletic built and was even hotter in person then in the pictures. I nearly passed out due to his hotness.

I was wearing a black fitted long jacket, black long sleeve blouse, dark blue pencil skirt, black stockings and pumps.

He was so pleasing to the eye; he gave me a quick little peck on the lips and asked me how the flight went. I joked and told him:

-- Well, I was scared that I was going to see some old fat man and I won’t be able to go back to California.

It was a dream, I was going to be happy, he is handsome, he loves me, we love each other; we will have really good looking kids. I went to exchange my currency and got $450 Canadian dollars.

We took a cab home, once inside we could not stop looking at each other. It was frigid cold and I was wearing a coat meant for Californian weather not for arctic conditions, I was freezing.

I got to his place; it was an apartment building like the ones I’ve seen in the movies of New York City. NOT the Manhattan lofts like the ones in sex in the city, but more like a CSR crime investigation scene just a bit cleaner.

We opened the door and the odor of old tobacco was so potent, it smelled like if a dirty old man lived there, (no offense to anybody that is older but that’s just how my mind associated it) I started gagging and grasping for air, he asked me if I was OK, I said

--yeah I am just a little queasy from the flight.

I did not want to tell him that his place smelled like shit.

It was a tiny studio with an old small stove ,mini refrigerator, twin bed, an ancient TV and VCR, an old dusty sofa and a itsy bitsy tiny winny coffee table that look like a stool. I was shocked; I have never seen anything like it. How can he live in these conditions? Why didn’t he tell me this before?

He excused himself to go the bathroom and I saw it as a great opportunity to check his closest and see is he has anything compromising like a rope and black plastic bags or anything that would let me know he was a serial killer. I was astounded to see his clothes and shoes all name brands: Gucci, Armani, Louis Vuitton, Fendi, and Prada. I wonder how he could afford all this and still live in a shitty place.

He apologized for the condition of his apartment and told me that he did not have much because he was planning on moving soon.

I left my luggage there and was preparing for a night in the town. We went to a restaurant and had Middle Eastern food, it was delicious. The bill came and he asked me if I could pay for it because the bank was holding his check for a couple of days, I accepted after all he will soon be my husband.

It was early hours in the morning, I was having the time of my life.Yes I totally saw myself living this life, maybe we did not have riches but we had each other and I will work and help him build our love nest.

To be continued...

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