Could it be me?

Posted by: fracas on September 30 @ 11:01 pm

You sit there, in an arm chair in a non-descriptive hotel in Shanghai. The western clean, loungy but oh so boring corporate style has been copied down to a T. It’s your 5th night, and although it’s a city with very little charm, you have unexpectedly come to feel at home. The breakfast is brought by the same girl every morning,. She looks at you coyly as she greets you good morning. As she turns around, you catch a glimpse of her shapely behind and thoughts that have been banned since marriage arise to the surface. But within seconds she ’s gone, consumed by a fast moving elevator. You stand there in an empty corridor, left alone with those thoughts of lust and greed. As they slowly fade away you turn to your breakfast…

A driver waits for you every morning and takes you to the office downtown. He is small and wears a dark blue cap, similar to the driver in Miss Daisy, although he might have been wearing gray for all you know. At the end of the evening you give a nod to the secretary who has been assigned to you since you arrived, and she makes a call to Mr Chen who stands ready 5 minutes later. He must have been waiting for you all day, because not even his impressive driving skills would allow him to fight the dense traffic with such success.

After a short stop at a McDonald’s, Mr Chen brings you back to the hotel. Half an hour later, at 10.30 pm you are here, alone, on the 24th floor gazing out over a lit up city, although the view is vastly obstructed by other highrise buildings. A bottle of Laphroaig is standing on the table, next to a clean empty glass. You pour some. First a little but before putting it down you decide to top it up. There, a full glass of the finest 18 year old island malt. You light a cigar and take some puffs turning the tobacco leaves into ember. The armchair is facing a large bay window, and you recline comfortably, inhaling the smoke of the cigar mixed with the fragrant fumes of the whiskey.

As you sit there, in your own little world, far away from home, your thoughts drift to matters that have been equally far away from mind. Your wife Carol, who is patiently waiting for you at home with your three beautiful children. Your house in Pacific Heights is still surrounded by morning mist, as your family will be asleep. You wonder if you are in her dreams, or are her dreams as empty as yours?

You see you come to a point when you have reached what you thought was reachable. Maybe a little bit more even. Everyone is giving you a pat on the back. Well done mate. You are living the dream. You are among the cream of the global population. When you go to work, you leave a beautiful house with a well kept front lawn behind you. At the side of the curb stands your dark blue BMW. It’s two years old but still in pristine condition. Every morning you do a quick calibration against your neighbours cars, and so far you know you are in the safe. That little sense of satisfaction gives you the boost you need along with a Starbucks coffee and a danish pastry.

When you enter the office, it’s quiet. Your wife will be still asleep, but that grants you a sense of domestic tranquillity. It’s your everyday peace offering for the cooking and taking care of the kids your wife will perform to near perfection. Yes you are perfect, as perfect as an all American family can be…