“I don´t know why you think that I care what you do in your life–I´m just gathering information so I can decide what I´m going to do, in mine.

“I don´t know why you think that I care what you do in your life–I´m just gathering information so I can decide what I´m going to do, in mine.

The writer pauses; I thought that he cared. “So you aren´t meeting me for coffees because you care about me?”, he replies as he turns his head to the beach. “Yeah, again”, I reply as I take a sip from the taza, “I´m not sure why you think that what you do in your life has any relevance on me? I am just listening to see if I will be affected, in any way–besides that, I´m not joking, that I don´t care.”

I pause; that´s kinda harsh.

“I´m not saying that you don´t matter, or that you´re not important, or that you aren´t a part of my life–but, right now, I have things going on in my life, and plans, and I am listening to see if I need to change what I´m going to do.  How will I be affected by what you are doing? I do care; but I have to do something and that´s where my mind is?”

“But, I thought that it was an excellent fruit cake”, he replies as he pulls the platter on the table back towards him, “it was an act of kindness.”

“Yeah”, I reply as I roll my eyes, “it was a great thought–I understand what you are saying.  But, you need to meet me at my level–that means that you need to understand what´s going in my life.  If I was hungry, a fruit cake would be great.”

“I was up all night cooking.”

“I don´t doubt it.” I pause; I take a sip of coffee; I turn my head towards the beach and then back to the writer; I sigh. “Take it home–enjoy it.  This is work, I want to focus on the current project.  I got a call in the night–there´s a new planet that wants to cultivate a new industry–this time we are planting apples.”

“It sounds like work.”

“Yeah”, I reply as I lean back in my recliner and take a sip, “it´s pretty shitty–that´s why you are going to do it and I´m going to get paid.”

“This sucks.”

“Welcome to life.” “When are we going?”

“2 shakes of a lambs tail.”

“What?” “Oh”, I reply as I turn my head from the waiter to the writer, “sorry–I was ordering a drink.  We can go this afternoon, if you´re available.”

“I would prefer not.”

“No one wants to, really.”


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