Fall to me is like Holi in India - Colorful, gleeful, leaf-ful. Many love stories of a single tree perish away in the reds, the blues, the ambers; baring to bone the lover that held it all together, and germinating a life of stark loneliness in brutal winter. If trees had emotions, it'd be hard for them to not be bipolar, the brutality of nature and the pain, and the sorrow, and then...a spring of love!
Quite a contrast to that was Hallandale...the 21 rifles of the high rises, sparkled like shooting fires in the honor of the biggest baldest scary guy - Some folks call him The Atlantic Ocean!
It was 1.00 a.m. and I had barely stepped in the hotel lobby. But there ain't a tired bone that doesn't resurrect at the sight of a beauty to behold.
"How are you doing, Sir?" She said.
I was tired and when I am tired I am not clever. My responses are a manifestation of my fatigue, and, trust me I hate that, so I stayed mum and smiled like a doped out pig staring at her nameplate. It read "Bellisimo".
"How about I cheer you up?" She said.
Now, that was something....different. I also realize that I am not 'beautiful people', so, yeah, I knew she had more to say, plus I was still trying to figure how to spell her goddamn name.
"We have you in one of our loveliest rooms."
See, I told ya. It's a good thing that I DO NOT indulge in dreamery.
"I am here for just six hours, but thank you so much for the upgrade."
"Don't worry, an hour of that view, and you'll not forget and will never regret." Her smile that was meant to be corporate, wasn't really one. It looked beautiful. It smelled beautiful. I couldn't taste it, but I bet it would taste beautiful too!
Anyhow, a few minutes, and 19 floors later, I was in the executive suite, sunken in the wicker chair of the private balcony and face to face with the haunting of the big bald ocean. I had this magical feeling of happiness, quite in contrast to how I felt just sometime ago, and I wondered, am I bipolar too, just like that maple tree in my backyard? juxtaposed emotions, an unbroken wind and a ferocious hypnosis.The redder side of sun woke me up. It was 6.00 a.m. already. It was time to go. I felt so different, energetic, creative. I was ready for the day; and ready to finish the last of 'Punk Sunk Love'.
She was right, this was the view I'll not forget and never regret!
On my way out, I had to say thanks to her and may be indulge in a bit of flirting now that I was fresh as a melon.
"The graveyard shift folks are gone, Sir. But I can take a message." The young receptionist paused. "Would you know her name?"
"Some weird bellagimo....ah...I can't recollect."
"Bellisimo?" He asked.
"It means beautiful in Italian, but I am sorry, sir. She hasn't worked here for last eight months."
"Ah...gate crasher. Now I get the charade!"
"She has been dead, Sir. For all eight months since she jumped off the executive suite on the 19th FLOOR."