I had just returned to my apartment parking lot after an exhausting two-mile run in the worst heat wave imaginable. Today is absolutely infernal, one of those days when your soul somehow feels as if it has completely evaporated and left an empty husk where your locus of existence used to be. Unequivocally unbearable. Rivers of sweat slipped effortlessly down my body, soaking both sides of an old university shirt I'd sheared the sleeves from as it caused my arms to glisten beneath the sun's piercing light. My breathing came in huge gasps and guttural groans, like a gorilla beating its chest at the males of an opposing clan. In a few minutes I was planning to be dead or stark naked and comatose on my living room floor.
As I began to turn the corner of my building and slough up a flight of cement steps, a car door slammed shut and a voice materialized in the dense, muggy air.
"Hey! Hello! Excuse me - hey!" it said.
I took a hazy survey of the area, my vision blurred from sweat and delirium. Before I knew it there was a short Asian woman beside me, smiling under a wide-brimmed hat and huge sunglasses that always seem like they're just about to fall off the noses of women who wear them.
"Aah, hello..." I managed, still breathing heavily.
"Can you help me one moment? I need to carry box but too heavy for me..."
Of all possible times and all possible places to carry a heavy box, this had to be the least convenient permutation of the two. But I was so physically drained that life and death had no distinction anymore. My mind was blank.
"Sure, I can do that."
"Oh, thank you so much! My car right over there!"
She takes hold of my forearm while pointing to a green Toyota. We approach it and walk around to the back.
"You very strong, you have no problem at all! Here-"
She unlatches the trunk and lifts it open, revealing the box of a 32-inch flat-screen TV. Far from heavy, but understandably difficult for someone like her to lug around all by herself. I reach in and pick it up with ease. She gasps.
"Wow... very light for you!"
"Haha, it sure is," I respond. "Where to?"
"My apartment is 127, just few doors down. We there in no time!"
Phew. It's ground level - no stairs. She hurries ahead to show the way. As I follow I can't help noticing the tight, firm ass and athletically toned legs practically bursting from her black joggers. Forgetting myself amid the blazing heat I stare helplessly, watching each cheek slide smoothly against the other. For a good ten or fifteen seconds I was utterly mesmerized, conscious of nothing else except the shapely backside of this petite stranger.
She stops at her door and we nearly collide.
"Ah, s-sorry!" I stammer. She unlocks the deadbolt, then the keyed entry knob.
"Oh, it's okay. Very hot today huh?"
"Yeah, hottest day of the year by far. Not a fun day for running!"
"You went for run today?" The door opens. "You must be so tired, why not come inside for a little while?"
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I sure! You put TV down right here, I go make some tea." Indicating an area just beyond the hardwood landing, she immediately scurries to the kitchen. I place the box down at a 20-35 degree angle with the wall, making sure it won't fall over. I gently close the front door.
The walls of her apartment are sparse, the eggshell white paint interrupted by a few framed pictures depicting traditional oriental imagery - a dragon, some lotus flowers, Chinese characters positioned directly below one another in masterful brush strokes. A low, wide coffee table draped in a thin cloth running along the exact middle of its exposed surface sits in front of a white couch that looks as if it's trying to camouflage itself against the white walls. Atop the table is a single drink coaster separated from a stack of the same. An extremely refreshing draft of cool air continuously exhales onto the left side of my face from a vent just overhead. Within a few seconds I begin feeling less catatonic. Water rushes from the faucet, a short duration of soothing white noise. She calls out from beneath the block of cabinets which overhang every sink in our apartment's default floor plan. I hear the telltale
plunk
of a metallic lid snapping shut.
"You sit down, tea will be ready shortly." She smiles while imploring me with her eyes.
"I think I will, thank you. On the couch?" A bit much to ask where I should sit, but I've always been cautious about making pleasant first impressions. Better to ask than to begin the presumptuous course of taking someone else's personal space for granted.
She laughs. "No, on floor! Of course you sit on couch! And take shoes off, you get comfortable!"
Totally fine by me. I gingerly remove my shoes and slink onto the couch, leaning against its far right arm. Discrete sounds issue from the kitchen; wooden cabinets opening and closing, ceramic mugs placed atop the counter, the lid of a mason jar unwinding around glass threads.
It occurs to me that I haven't been taken care of this way in a very long time. Even recalling my last relationship feels like digging through sand with bare hands, streams of mental imagery collapsing and falling away into a grainy abyss. I close my eyes and let the scene wash over me, intent on saving it for future reference. Within a few minutes the teapot hisses loudly. She turns the gas stove's dial counter-clockwise, giving a satisfying click as the blue-hot flames disappear. I listen as she pours boiling water into one cup, and then the other.
She carries both cups to the living room and places one on the lone coaster, then grabs another to place in front of me. I lean forward to receive the mug, which she holds with both hands. Our fingers meet as she carefully releases her grasp, her smooth skin gliding across my hands that look gigantic next to hers. Heat from the mug radiates through my palms, creating a nice contrast to the cool air enveloping my body. I bring the mug close enough to feel the fragrant steam against my face.
"Very very hot, be careful!"
"Hot tea on a hot day," I respond cheerily. "But it feels nice inside a cool apartment. Thank you, uhm- sorry, I don't even know your name..."
The small woman takes her seat beside me. "My name Annie," she begins, "Annie Wong."
"Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Wong."
"Miss Wong... you so sweet and polite, but make me feel like old lady. Please, call me Anne."
"Thank you, Anne. My name is Eric. It's a pleasure to meet you."
She giggles. "Oh believe me Eric, pleasure is all mine. So you enjoy going running on hot day like today?"
For the first time I can really observe her sans hat and sunglasses. Her face is pretty and soft, her eyes gleaming with the sort of unconditional kindness only seen in the very wise and mothers gazing at a young child within their arms. Long, mysterious black hair hangs tied at her back, bangs tucked behind her ears in an alluringly casual way. She is visibly mature - at least 40, I would guess - but for her gentility and tight figure appears much younger. I take a measured sip of tea.
"Hah, I wouldn't say I enjoy it. But there's no better feeling in the world than coming home and taking an ice cold shower after being in the sun." Best to hide the fact that I rarely take showers after a run, preferring instead to strip naked and collapse upon the nearest available surface.
"Ooh, I bet. Cool your body down, wash that sticky sweat away."
