Chapter II: The Question

Woke up that warm morning, cuddled with a beautiful woman lying by my side. The day finally arrived. I could see her eyes lovely closed, the same way I always imagined the woman of my life to be waken up next to me.

Took my usual shower, with warm water falling in my face, trying to do it’s work: WAKE ME UP. Eventually, after twenty short minutes in the shower, I was already running late. Breakfast was served in the kitchen. There was a dinning table, but it was hardly ever used to have any meals, with the computer on one side, books and paper works all over, made it difficult to use it, specially when time was running up.

After having that delicious typical food (the "Arepa"), so well known for the best after-hours meal you could have, stuffed with the most creamy, soft, white cheese, that literally melted in your mouth, rapidly got dressed. Went down the old building I lived in for the past six months, located in one of the most expensive areas in the city. Not because of the richness and wealthy in the surroundings, but for it’s strategic location. Just a few minutes walking from one of the most beautiful mountains, which divided the coast form the city (if you were to go on the top, 2.000 meters. above sea level, you would be able to see the Caribbean sea on one side, and the whole city on the other side), a few blocks away from the subway, and within a three minutes drive to work. Not to mention all the malls, restaurants, convenience stores and anything that you may need in a cosmopolitan, but disorganized city.

I was not going to my office that Thursday. Instead, I took a cab around the corner, hiding again from the owner of the kiosk across the street. Traffic was not on it’s best days of course, specially if it knows that you are running late. After thirty minutes, a normal five minutes drive, I arrived to the hotel we meant to meet with my fellow co-workers. I was the first one to arrive.

It is a common well known genetic drive, fisted into our most deepest Latin-American DNA, blood and bones, that we are not allow, not by society who is demanding it, but from the very deep of our souls: not to be on time. Then again, I have been fighting this “no to late” syndrome, which can be seen by very few people, as the evolution of our dearest “race”, to a much better society. However, we had developed a cure to fight this genetic malfunction. If you are meant to be at 8.00 in one place, very seriously, and doing the best of the efforts not to be caught, you must say:
- “We must meet at 7.15 am sharp. Whoever is late, pays for the breakfast”

But this “Band-Aid” cannot fight against such sophisticated, evolved disease. It has manage to identify the real time of the meeting, and of course, at the end, everyone is paying for their own breakfast that day, and for the one next day!, because they will arrive at 8.30 am !

My “not so late syndrome” had manage to give me quality time with myself, while I was waiting for others. I have been showing up this syndrome, since I taught squash 17 years ago. Then I understood the importance of been on time, and finally, just like doing the most specialized Master degree in the subject, I lived for almost three months in the “late genetic” free country: England.

After everyone arrived and each one of us paid for their own breakfast, the work session went as planned. We had a Direct Marketing seminar, and many things were to be learned that day, specially at the very end.

Towards the end of the day, we had planned an amazing activity: they were going to teach us how to taste scotch. Nothing to do with Direct Marketing, but everyone was excited, perhaps not to learn how to taste scotch, but to have free drinks ! The gave us several wine glasses with different types of scotch, and a board with the different places the cultivate what the scotch is made of. Just a small note, something I did not know, is that whiskey can only be named scotch, if it was made in Scotland. Pretty obvious for me now, but not before.

At some point, the facilitator asked THE QUESTION. A question which answer change my perspective of many things. Before you even read the answer, please try to answer the question yourself, and see what could you come up with, and hopefully you will find the answer as amazing as I did:

“What is the proper or best way to drink Scotch?”

Many answers were given, many thought they were right (and they still do). The not very hardcore drinkers said “…with Pepsi or Coke”. The fun beach partying guys said “… with lots of ice and Coconut Water”. I must admit it actually tastes good, but either way I don’t like Scotch, I only drink it when I have no choice. The more respected guys said “… with soda or water, and lots of ice”, and finally the Scotch experts, the hardcore drinkers, the professors said “… on the rocks or straight”

It was a hot discussion, everybody seemed to be right, and in fact they were. What the facilitator said the answer was:
“You should drink your Scotch in the way you best enjoy it… not more, not less”

And that is how we planned our weeding, the best way we thought it would make it “Perfect”. Women, in the most cases, are naturally born to planned their wedding. They have been thinking of it since they were just a kid. I knew a friend that she had planned here wedding to every details, even before having a boyfriend. When she finally got proposed, it was matter of just executing her “business” or wedding plan. Her fiancé, not aware of this situation, found out the hard way, when he had very little to say regarding the planning of his own wedding.

For those hardcore wedding planner women, they might find shocking the way we planned our wedding, others might find it liberating as “Yes… that is exactly what I want (or wanted)”. At the end, it is how we thought we would had enjoy it, and I say “thought”, because no matter how much planning we had, the day we got married, most of it went from what we had planned, to some things went wrong, to the most unbelievable wedding!