Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta party. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta party. Mostrar todas las entradas

sábado, 16 de abril de 2016

Hand between thighs

   When Alan woke up, he felt a hand lodged right between his thighs, centimeters away from his genitals. He froze as soon as he open his eyes and realized he didn’t really knew what had happened the night before. Not minding the hand or the soft breathing next to him, he tried to remember where he was exactly and what had he done to get there.

 He remembered going to his friend Amelia’s house as she had organized a party for her boyfriend, who had recently came back to the country after working with an NGO for several months in Africa. Alan had always thought Julio, Amelia’s boyfriend, was very handsome and kind and he always told her that if he had been gay, he would have been the one to get him. Amelia always responded to this by laughing and saying, “Right, you wish”. She had cooked some things, bought other things and had bought lots to drink for the many people that were coming.

 At first, it had been a nice little gathering of people and, as it was a surprise party, it had been really nice when Julio had come in and he was truly surprised to see so many people there. Alan ate a lot and then began to drink, just like the rest of the people. Music slowly changed throughout the night and after midnight they were already dancing all over the place. Everyone was having fun. And that’s all Alan could remember clearly. Memories become blurry after that.

 He turned around his head to the left and realized, although the hand between his thighs was a good indicator, that he was naked. His clothes were all over the floor, his underwear on top of a shoe that wasn’t his. He turned around his head to the right and expected not to see whoever it was awake but he wasn’t. He had his eyes closed and he was a very cute guy. Cuter than most men he had ever had sex with. But no matter how hard he tried; he couldn’t remember who he was.

 After dancing had begun, he thought he remembered drinking a lot more. He probably mixed liquors and that’s why his head didn’t feel so good. And his stomach wasn’t too great either. He closed his eyes for a while and tried to think about what he should do. He ended up remembering a conversation with Julio about some political issue in Africa and with Amelia about how hot someone was. He didn’t really remember who he was talking about but he remembered saying something about an ass.

 Carefully, he lifted the bed sheet to see it if the guy’s ass made him remember anything else but it didn’t. It was nice though and he couldn’t help but appreciating that the guy slept on his chest and with his face towards him. He almost laughed at this stupid thought but he contained himself and realized it was probably time to go.

 The hand was the most difficult part.  The best way to do it was to make him move the hand instead of Alan taking it and moving it himself. So he just moved his legs and feet a bit and that made the guy turn his head around and remove his hand from where it was, instead putting it right under his body. Alan waited for further movement but it didn’t happen, so as silently as he could, he got out of the bed.

 He suddenly had a string urge to sneeze and grab his nose just in the right way not to make a big noise. He had a bit of a dust allergy and he realized the floor was not precisely spotless. There were little balls of dust here and there and he decided to get his clothes fast, before he needed to sneeze again. He grabbed his underwear first, then one sock that was on the bed, then his pants on top of the other guy’s shirt. His shirt was on a chair, as well as his jacket and, finally, his other sock on the nightstand near the possible owner of the room.

 Alan realized two things right there: that he might not be in that guy’s place and that he had no idea where his shoes were. He looked beneath the bed and under every piece of clothing still on the floor but he couldn’t find anything. So if they weren’t there, they had to be outside. Hoping not to have to wake up the guy, he grabbed the door handle and pushed as slowly as he could. The door didn’t make a noise and he closed it with care.

 Effectively, his shoes were on the corridor outside. He got dressed right there and in a few seconds he was clothed and walking to the main door. The apartment was nice, although a bit dusty too in the social areas. There was an opened bottle of wine on the coffee table and two glasses. Those were probably theirs and that really explained why Alan had such a need to eat something or vomit. He had never been a good wine drinker and realized he must have been really drunk to accept wine.

 He put on his shoes right on the door, checked his jacket for his wallet and cellphone and when he felt them, he opened the door, got out and closed without minding the slamming sound. He was out anyway, so he didn’t really care anymore. He walked towards an elevator and press the down button and then had a memory, a confusing one, of having kissed someone in an elevator recently. Not a surprise.

 When the elevator opened, a woman not much older than Alan came out and greeted him. He walked into the elevator and, just as the doors were closing, he saw she was standing in front of the apartment he had just left and was looking for her keys. He opened his mouth in surprise and wondered who she might have been.

 Moments later, on the street, he quickly knew where he was and where he had to walk to catch a bus towards his house. It was very early and it was, if Alan remembered correctly, a Saturday. So that explained why the woman was visiting he guy he had been with. Maybe it was his sister. Or maybe it was a friend that had keys, but that didn’t really make any sense. Or she could have been his roommate. After all, he remembered seeing a couple of closed doors. If only he could remember anything about his likely conversation with him.

 When he got to the bus stop, he tried to straighten his hair and look a bit less “hangover” in the face. But that was probably impossible so he just sat in the small metal bench and waited for his bus. He checked the number on his cellphone and then realized he maybe used the phone the night before. So he checked for pictures and, he certainly had many of those but not the kind he was hoping for.

 He almost dropped the phone and had to lower the brightness of the screen so no one else could see, even if he was alone at the bus stop. There were five pictures and in all of them he was having what looked like great sex with the guy he had woken up next to. He certainly didn’t remember that but then something woke up some of his neurons: in one of pictures, he could see the guy had a tattoo of a Celtic symbol on his arm. He remembered having talked about it but not with whom. Probably that guy…

 He knew he said he knew what the symbol meant and he did: it was about eternity and everlasting energy or something like that. Maybe that had been his so-called “pick up line”. Alan didn’t really use those but maybe it had worked that way for him. He also had a couple of pictures in the party but that he remembered very well because they had been taken early in the night.

 The bus arrived; he passed his card and then sat down in the back row. He looked at people and cars and dogs as the bus took him home and when he finally got there he just took off his clothes again and got in bed. But he couldn’t really fall asleep. He was still thinking of the guy and how guilty he felt not knowing who he was, at least a name or something about their conversation or what the sex was like.


 He really was an attractive guy so Alan wondered how he made it happen. Maybe the guy was desperate or maybe Alan had some charm he didn’t even know was there. Maybe he should have stayed in that bed, with that hand between his thighs in order to know more about that guy and possibly about himself. What harm could it have done?

miércoles, 9 de septiembre de 2015

Wedding planner

   The food was ready, the cake was in its place, all chairs and tables had been checked and even the sun was been monitored, as well as the clouds. As a wedding planner, Monica knew everything had to be perfect. She was paid, handsomely by the way, because people knew she was a control freak and in her job, that was a good thing. From the little boy or girl carrying the rings to the small couple on top of the cake, Monica knew everything about a marriage and always had it under control, having alternatives at hand when the time needed. She had left a job in real estate when a friend asked her to organize her wedding simply because she was much more thorough than her. And that party was still being remembered today, with all its beautiful details.

 So Monica had made wedding her life and now attended many of those a week, seeking only perfection. By now she was so recognized in the medium, that she had the privilege to choose her clients, instead of being the other way around. She would only choose those events that had something interesting in them like a great location, many people, cultural aspects and anything she could be interested in to make her business much more successful. She had done everything from Jewish weddings to gay weddings. She had made them on the beach, in the woods and even in a theme park. Monica always had the kind of food you wanted, the colors, the flavors, the music, the entertainment… She had it all for her successful business.

 What she didn’t have was that which all her clients had: someone by her side. Ironically, Monica had never been married or close to being married. She had never had a relationship that had the potential to go that far and the truth was she had never had time for love. Monica was so focused on doing well financially and socially that she had left on the side her needs as a woman with feelings of love and care. But it was, in fact, because those needs were not really that strong. Many people were amazed by this, specially her mother and other women that were close to her, but Monica was not at all romantic, had no interest in being a mother and when presented to men, she was always bored by all of them.

 If you think she may have been a lesbian, the answer is no. It was as simple as she had no feelings for anyone. She had experimented enough in high school and college and she had always enjoyed sex, but she had no need of having a partner or a love interest, at all. Her girl friends were always so amazed by the things she talked when referring to her job. She did the most beautiful things for so many people but when asked how she imagined her own wedding, she had absolutely no words and she often changed the subject. It was very awkward and people would normally go on to another thing.

 All of this was harder on her when men decided to approach. It has to be said that Monica was not a super model but she wasn’t a monster either. She had nice black hair and big brown eyes. Men always stared at her legs, which she often didn’t realize. When a guy decided to approach her, it was really uncomfortable because there were two things that may happen. The first one was that the guy may come and tell her a compliment but she would just be completely oblivious to his intentions. Normally, she wouldn’t even pay attention and would decide very fast to dismiss him, excusing herself by use of her work. Men never insisted because she would talk in such a cold way it was impossible to insist.

 The other case would be for her to be aware of the guy’s intentions but answering by being brutally honest with him. That did not happen as often as the other case, which was great because she was always very cold and harsh when telling someone she wasn’t, at all interest. Men would just think “What a bitch!” and leave the place immediately. And that was it, she was known as the queen of marriages for many women but many men also knew her as a cold bitch. And even women knew this last thing and didn’t mind because that way they thought they would have more control over their wedding that their future husbands, who women always thing have awful taste for things such as weddings.

 Monica was in love once, though. It had happened during her year as a realtor. She would show so many people house and apartments that it became dull and tiring after a short period of time. Then, one day, she met Frank. He was a wealthy young man working in his family’s business and had been commanded by his mother to buy a place in the city, near the office, to be always there if someone needed it. The fact is that Monica and Frank bonded when she showed him several apartments in one day, all enormous for one person and with bills that only a rich man like Frank could pay. But the truth was that, that day; they were both not as interested in the apartments as they were in each other.

 Some days later, they started dating and then Monica’s job took a back seat in her life. She went out with Frank often, to the movies, the theater or simply to have dinner in the most amazing restaurants. He always paid and she loved those details that made him a gentleman. Even the first time they had sex; she realized he was not a driven person, but a controlled one like herself. She liked that so she decided to let herself go a bit and enjoy whatever was happening between them. It was a great time in her life because she had it all: a job, a boyfriend and even money to make small investments, like a new apartment for herself. Frank promised to buy her things to fill it and she knew that it would be their love nest.


 However, that never happened. Blinded by love, Monica had not realized that she had no way of paying for all the bills of the apartment. Even with help from Frank, paying the bills would be very difficult and the truth was she didn’t want Frank to do everything on their future home. Because, although they had never talked about it, she intended to marry him soon. She had not tell any close friends about Frank because every time in the past she had a boyfriend, they had always been extremely judgmental of her because they thought of her control issues and wondered how she would use them in a relationship.

 The case was that she didn’t have to do a thing to end this relationship or to even make it crumble. Frank, as rich as he was, was not interested in her like she had always thought. He was a player and wanted to have many options in life, as he didn’t want any type of responsibility yet. He had been entrusted with a company that someone else was handling on his name. He just had to smile and go to work everyday. But the truth was he would often be high or drunk somewhere with random women, in parties or just having sex in the apartment Monica had gotten for him. When she found it, she felt extremely stupid and told him to fuck himself and never to call her. He was cruel as he told her that she was just using her for sex and that she wasn’t even good at that.

 Monica’s trust in love was destroyed that day and never really grew back. She didn’t blame anyone but herself because she knew she had being naïve and simply stupid every single day of that relationship, if you can even call it that. She was speechless and cried for several days, almost until the day a friend asked her to organize her wedding. Everything changed because of that: she sold the apartment and moved to one she could pay, she burned everything that had ever come from Frank and organized, with the help of a friend who was an expert in creating companies, everything she needed to have a successful business.


 Four years later, Monica had achieved her goal of being the most recognizable face of the wedding planning industry, Because for her it was an industry, as well as for the hundreds of women and men that came to her in order to get married, because they knew they would get whatever their imagination had created. No matter if they wanted silly costumes or the rarest wines in the world she would have it for those who needed it and could pay her fee. When at home, when the weddings were over, she would often think about her own future but she always failed to see love. She wanted sometimes, but there was nothing there. Sadly, that part of her had been torn apart.

miércoles, 29 de julio de 2015

Blood test

 As far as I could remember, I had never had blood taken from me. I had never been sick and, being a man, I had never being pregnant. So the thing was very new for me and scary. It’s kind of silly to be scared of such a silly thing but aren’t we always scared about the things that we don’t even understand? Because I didn’t even know why they wanted me to give my blood after just a routine check-up. The doctor said it was good, once in a while, to do something like a full scan of the body to be sure nothing was off, nothing was out of place. But taking blood from my body seemed very invasive.

 I am the kind of person that takes days to talk to you, even if I have seen you for a year, at work, at school or wherever. I am the kind of person that always tries to be in relationships were the other person wants more love than sex. I’m the kind of person that would never put on a bathing suit in front of someone else or shower in a public place or something like that. I would die first to be honest. So giving away a sample of blood was just as if someone had forced me to give up something that was only mine and it didn’t felt right. Besides that, I had never done it and felt silly because I knew it was something positive to do. After all, he doctor was right: I needed to get to know what was happening inside my body. I had not being in a doctor’s office for five years or more and if he wanted to know what was going on, he was the doctor after all.

 I woke up really early to give my sample. I tried not to think about it until the moment was imminent. So I just woke up, showered, put on some loose clothes and walk out home. The weather was strange: it seemed that it was going to rain but it didn’t, as if the sky was waiting to make a more dramatic storm later in the day. I just thought the weather sometimes behaved like a moody human. I walked to the bus stop and waited there for the bus that would take me to the hospital. It was such a sad thing, to be going to a hospital. I thought tight there that I pity every single person that has to go to a hospital every single day of his or her lives. All that sadness and stress and just negativity…

 I mean, I’m not the most positive guy you’re going to find, not at all, but I do try to be objective and working in the health sector must not be an easy task, maybe if you are the head of a pharmaceutical company or something. When my bus stopped, I walked inside like a zombie. I hadn’t had anything to eat, as asked by the doctor, so I felt a little like walking on air. The bus was filled with people so early in the day so I just stood up by the exit and waited for my stop. As I did so, I noticed that most of the passengers in the bus were women and then another fact of life hit me in the face: women are so under appreciated. Not because they carry life but because they keep it going. All those ladies in the bus were proof of that and I felt bad as a man.

 One of them was talking about the day she was going to have. I couldn’t hear the whole conversation, but I could guess she was a housekeeper. She was telling another woman that she had asked her boss to give her two days off as she was feeling really tired and had many things to do at home. The other women asked her if her husband helped around the house and she answered that he did but that things were still backing up. She hoped to get those two days to run some errands and just be with her children for some more time that week. That was all I heard before I stepped out of the bus, twenty minutes after I had gotten in. I felt bad for her but I thought that at least she had a steady job. Things could always be worse.

 As it was very early, there were no traffic jams on the streets and no overcrowded sidewalks. The few people around were workers of stores or vendors that were installing their posts in strategic places for the morning rush. People were going to need their coffee, their newspapers and their dose of sugar and they were going to given them all to them. I walked past them and then through a couple of blocks where not a single soul was seen. It was the perfect time of the day to shoot a zombie apocalypse scene. I imagined it and smiled for myself. I finally got to the hospital and went straight to the second floor, where I was charged for my blood test. Then I sat down and looked around.

 Besides me, there were only two other people: a teenager with his mom and an elderly couple. The teenager was obviously checking social media and seemed very focused on it. His mom seemed moved her feet and legs without stopping. By her outfit, it was obvious she worked in some office and that she needed to get there as soon as possible, which was curious because wouldn’t you open up your morning to be with your son? Then there was the elderly couple, two lovely older people that were chatting about their pills and if they had them all in the woman’s purse. She pulled them all out and I was surprised to see at least ten little orange bottles in armrest of the chair. They were saying their properties, as no one ever knew the names.

 The teenager was called first and then the couple and when more people were coming in, I finally got inside too. I got into a small cubicle were a nurse checked my arms for the best vein and the she told me to look the other way, as it may look a bit too scary. I did exactly that, as I was not really looking forward to see my blood spilling out of my arm. As she did her job, she told me that the results would be available in two weeks. I wanted to complain but my arm hurt too bad and she told me, after putting a circular sticking plaster where she had put the needle on.

 When the pain passed, I asked her why it took so long to have the results. I told her it was just a routine procedure for my doctor but she told me that all exams were the same and that they checked the blood for every possible disease I could have: hepatitis and several sexual transmitted diseases includes syphilis and HIV. When she said the last part, I got even more scared that before the needle went through my skin. I didn’t ask anything else or said anything at all. She just gave me a sheet with which I could claim the results in two weeks time. Five minutes later, I was already outside walking home. Somehow, I didn’t want to take the bus back. I had too many things in my head and only wanted to vent a little before freaking out once again. 

 As I stopped to buy something to eat, I thout about the reason why I was freaking out. Exactly five months ago I had gone to a party and, strangely for me, I had gotten really drunk. The friends that had invited me there were just laughing their asses off because they had never seen me drunk and because, strangely enough, I was a very funny drunk guy. I told just, funny stories I didn’t even know I had and I talked to people straight away, even going so far as to ask them if they have had sex that day. Bare in my mind the party was attended by, at least, forty people and only knew a couple of them. I drank a lot and, the next day I was surprised to realize that I hadn’t vomited or anything gross like that all night.

 What was weird was that I woke in one of the bedrooms of the apartment were the party was held and I happened to be only wearing my underwear and with someone besides me. Now, I didn’t know if something happened and to this day I have no idea. It was just as if all memories produced after two in the morning had been erased by the computer that was my brain. I only know I grabbed my clothes, put them on and just got the hell out of there. Days later, I spoke with one of my friends that had been in the party and he just said he found me funny when drunk. But he never said anything about me kissing or talking in a “unique way” to someone. So I didn’t mention it and I had forgotten everything about it until the day of the blood test.

 The following two weeks were torture. Every time I had a moment to think about my life, I found myself wondering if I had sex that night of the party and if it had been unprotected. As I didn’t recall anything, and I didn’t really stayed in the room the next day to see if there was a condom wrapper around, I just didn’t know anything. I just knew I was very nervous and jumpy every time someone was looking to talk to me about anything. Days were long sometimes and I just wanted the hospital to call me and tell me they need me to pick up the results earlier but maybe that wouldn’t have been a very happy call.


 Anyway, I waited as patiently as I could and when it was time, I went to the hospital and asked for my results. It was very frustrating that I had to wait several minutes for them and that I had to go through them with a doctor different that the one who had asked for the damn exam. She must have realized what was going on inside my mind because she just said “You’re fine, honey”. I felt like an elephant had ben lifted from my back and I could finally worry about other things, like my life in general and the fact that I suffered from anemia.

domingo, 19 de julio de 2015

Performers

   The moment was very surreal. She was a very big star, a very well known woman, and she was offering him something she shouldn’t. He knew that drugs were typical in this business but he never thought he would see them so soon. Mia offered him two pills: one was bigger and yellow and the other was white and smaller. She told him that both were great and made anyone feel great, more free and without guilt. She also offered him a bottle of wine to drink them with but he refused it, thinking it wasn’t the best idea to mix those pills with alcohols. He had seen some TV shows were people mixing drugs and other things ended up dead or insane. As Mia consumed her share, he stared at the pills thinking what should he do with them.

 He could tell Mia he was going to take them and just throw them to the ground. The place was dark anyway and with all the people moving around and dancing, they would get stepped on fast and the evidence would disappear. But that wasn’t realistic as Mia wanted to see as he consumed them. So he was against the wall, literally, in this opportunity. He asked her to wait because he was a little bit nervous and she just nodded. They then danced and talked to everyone that Mia knew and had fun just like that. He kept the pills in his shirt’s chest pocket. He could feel them there but only when he was thinking about Mia remembering him that he had to take them. He was expecting her to forget all about it and for the night to have a speedy end before anything could happen.

 The truth was that drugs made him very nervous. Even people smoking pot made him think about how strange it was to just smoke or drink or have something distort your view of reality because the one you have is too boring or too hard. Peter, who still had the pills on his chest pocket, had met a guy in college that often did drugs and then he gradually transformed into this idiotic beast that never new anything. Only the other junkies joined him between classes and he rarely even went to class, except for those no one ever missed. He was not an awful guy, it was actually easy to see he could have been a very handsome fellow but drugs had made him into this puppet with no real life in him.

 Mia then got closer to Peter. He was scared she would ask him to drink the pills again but she just started dancing in front of him. Then, they danced together and it was just as if she had been drinking a lot, only that she said things that she would have never said when drinking. She talked about colors and shapes and how she felt the music. She never said, not once, that she loved Peter or that she loved something, which would have been typical of a drunken person. It was weird to see her like that and Peter wondered how did she do it, with so much work around her. He also wondered why did she do it: Mia had everything anyone could want. It made everything stranger to Peter

 When the night ended, it was him that had to carry her to her car and then drive her home. Peter didn’t mind, as Mia had been so good to him for the last few months. He was just a beginner, having no experience in professional acting. And Mia just helped him get a better role and to be prepared for it. Mia was actually a very experienced and nuanced actress, knowing every single thing a professional performer should know. She was famous, having done many movies and having won several awards. She was not someone that had just arrived to the party; she was really a great professional. Nevertheless, she ran out of friends at the end of the night and it was Peter who took her home.

 He left her in bed and her car in the garage of her awesome apartment in a very exclusive area of town. Peter did not live close but he stayed for some minutes, looking at the city from the balcony. That view was magnificent and he wondered if he would ever get to have something like that. Then he heard Mia complaining. He ran to her and she asked him for water, which he brought with haste. She thanked him for being there but she asked him to go and sleep as the week was going to be very complicated for them. He agreed and left, taking a taxi to his home where he barely had any sleep. The following morning, it was Sunday so he met his parents in his sister’s house. There he played with his new nephew, which helped him relax and just enjoy life.

 His mother asked him if he was feeling ok because he looked like a zombie but he told her it was just that he had not been able to sleep. His sister then teased him that Mia was making him stay up until late, something he didn’t even gave an answer to. He didn’t want his family to think Mia was a problematic brat but he also didn’t want them to think it was him who was misbehaving in some manner.  The rest of that day, Peter just played with his nephew and the dog, throwing the Frisbee and also doing a small play with all his nephew’s toys were the dog was the savior and the princess in distress was Peter’s mother. They all laughed and applauded.

 Back home, Peter knew that acting was his thing. There was nothing else that made him feel alive and just good about himself. He had dealt with a lot of issues growing up and performing had been the answer to all of it. He had been the happiest guy in the world when he had landed his first role and meeting Mia had been a struck of luck that he still couldn’t believe. But now, after a while, he was wondering if she wasn’t more of a problem than anything else. What if she passed on her complicated life to him, what if that type of life was the one to have if Peter wanted to be known and successful? He didn’t know if he could handle the pressure. But at least that night, he slept a bit more.

  As Mia had predicted, the week was harsh on them. Shooting had begun and the director was a very demanding man. On the first day, he asked Mia to do the same scene at least fifteen times. Peter had seen how professional she was, as she just did what it was needed of her and never complained at all. She was very polite and tried to work with her director, never been too pushy. Besides, Mia was great. Her scenes were just something to look at, always so layered and real. She was the real deal and it was great that, during the brakes, she would ask Peter to come with her and just chat about anything. She gave him advice and also discusses what she hadn’t like about her scenes, although she never criticized the screenwriter or the director.

 Nevertheless, Mia did look tired. Beneath her make up, it was easy to see that she had large marks under her eyes and that her skin seemed a bit dry. But then she would come to the set and just blow everyone’s mind. When it was Peter’s turn to act, she was always there, cheering him on. He was obviously not as good as her but by the end of the week he was able to surprise himself with a very angry performance, in which he had to throw a glass full of whisky to a fireplace. The scene was dangerous for obvious reasons but it was the only one the director never asked to repeat. He said everything had been so well done, that he’s rather not spoil it all by shooting another scene.

Mia congratulated Peter and they had a glass of wine to celebrate. Work went on in various locations around town for several weeks. By the end of the third month, the director announced they had finished the movie. Everyone celebrated and Peter got to thank the director and ask him for his autograph. He also asked Mia for her and she did something even better: she asked an assistant to take a picture of them and she sent it framed with her autograph to Peter’s home. Sadly, she had to leave town to do a musical in some other town so it was sad to see her go but Peter knew that she would shine anywhere she went. They promised to keep contact and they hoped to do something more together, in the future.

 Finally able to have some rest, Peter got home and enjoyed himself remembering so many things he had learned and so many people he had met. He had been so fortunate and hoped for things to be even better as he got involved with more and more roles. When he was acting, he felt so alive and real, so representative of everyone but mainly of himself. He tried to make every character his, even if they didn’t really had anything in common. It was just the best thing to do. Months passed and he went with his family to se the movie. He hadn’t been able to go to the premiere, due to another job, but he decided to take his family to see it. As he put on some clothes, he put chose the same shirt he had wore to the club that night and realized the pills were there.


 He was again attracted to the whole idea behind them but decided to thrown them to the garbage bin as he had already found his drug and it was a far better one.