It was a bright after noon in June 6, 2007, we were sitting in a high corner booth, surrounded by red brick walls that made her white pink face prettier. She was gorgeous, blue eyes, reddish blond hair, well dressed with a body and legs of a long time runner. The moment was seized and together we sat, I was at her left and she was at my right. My heart was pounding, my hands were sweating, and my eyes were all over her, I was nervous. She looked of a different caliber, social level, and my native ways were on my demeanor. I wasn’t less nor was she more. We were different. Our contrasts made it more interesting.


It was so unique, and my mind started to overwork. The minute I saw her walked into the red brick restaurant, she looked sexy, and transmitted sophistication, and a multicultural look but best of all she looked intelligent and diverse. Intimidating for a moment, yet fascinating. I wanted to kiss her, smell her, feel her heart, touch her body, dance for her or hear her breathing in my ear.


I moved closer little by little. I could almost touch her legs with mine. Drinks were served and we both declined food. It looked and felt as we both wanted out of the restaurant to bealone. It was our first time together, and we both knew the protocol. Yet, anxiety quickly was running short. Ecstasy was sprinting out of our pupils.


It was too obvious. We stood up and started to leave. The server, running after us, informed us that we had not paid our check. I felt like an idiot, but I did not care. I handed my credit card and stood at the door waiting to be checked out. My heart pounded faster and louder. Her vehicle was parked two blocks away, and we began our walk. At her parked car, we were paralyzed for a moment, and instantly and naturally my lips and her lips were against each other’s. Madly, passionately and intensively, we engaged savagely in a never ending tasting of lips, acting as two thirsty individuals in the middle of the Atacama’s barren desert.


The moment was as if the only thing happening in the city was our kiss. Cars were honking, people were shouting, and pedestrians stared. It was heaven on earth. We saw and felt no need to stop but rather connected in the most harmonious, passionate kiss I had ever had. Neither of us wanted to let go. The kiss was long, very long, and it had all the traits of a very, very good kiss, as if we were showing off to each other how well we could kiss. My life had been moved, touched and I was ready for it. We held hands not wanting to let go.


I had no time left. I needed to get home and be ready for work. I was working the night shift. I saw herget into her car, and I watched every move she made as if I was playing a movie scene in low-motion. She started her ignition and left. I stood there watching her vehicle leave until I no longer saw the red tail lights. I left for home to get ready. On my drive home, the taste of lip stick did not overcome her sweet, passionate kiss off my mouth. I kept swallowing to taste her lips over and over. I wiped my lips with my hand to get her lip’s aroma closer to my nose.


When I arrived home, I debated whether or not to shower. I did not want her lips’ taste and scents todisappear. Naturally, I took a shower but all I could think was her kiss. I lamented why I had not brought her home, but my rule (no sex on first date) did not permit me. I got out the shower and I wanted to call her back and tell her that I was calling in sick at work. I did not know if it was love or lust.


Love or lust, they wereboth there, and it was impacting my heart, my mind and soul. I could not wait for our next encounter. Working the night shift was very demanding and managing production quotes of graphics with high end print quality was not an easy task. I had been transformed by one female, by one date and by one kiss. My nightly work obligations were twisted. To stay focused and perform my best was hard. I only thought of her kiss and love poems to write to her. The night went by, work was impacted, but expectations were met. The night was long.


The next morning, I immediately wanted to email her or call her. I did not want to sound desperate, but I was dying to call her, to see her eyes, to hear her voice, to smell her perfume, and to kiss her again. Everything seems as it was yesterday. I was truly happy that my life had been introduced to a new chapter. The summer bright afternoon of June,2007 was the most gorgeous date I ever had with a beautiful marathon runner. I love you cat-loving runner.