San Diego Reader

Dear friends,

I think I’m dreaming and I don’t want to wake up. I’m in the Matrix and I love every second of it. Before starting writing this (in my dreams of course) I was thinking to ask you guys to knock in my door and wake me up but after some more thinking I decided “Please don’t wake me up!” What if instead of your beautiful faces I see some ugly guard yelling at me to wake up and clean the bathroom I’m living in and it’s 4am (I don’t have a watch but this is the time when they start screaming).

Well, back to my dream, this is what is going on. I moved to Rancho Santa Fe for a personal assisting job. I was a little scared that the new boss might want sexual favors from me but I still went for it. The house is huge, the most beautiful home I ever lived in. I have my own room and bathroom so he doesn’t get the chance to see me running around naked. This neighborhood is kinda weird; it’s a different country on its own. We were driving by the high school the other day and I could see kids driving their brand new Porches and BMWs and just a couple of blocks away a bunch of Mexicans with their bikes on the side of the road waiting for somebody to pick them up and give them some works. I really hope Emigration never drives by there.

Before I moved in, I expected this snobby, rich guy to treat me like s%$t and tell me what to do. I thought that in a couple of weeks I would hate him from the deep of my heart and that I would secretly hope that he will become fat and stupid and nobody would love him anymore. “Great expectations” I had but I didn’t care. I was in a desperate need of a job that actually pays and I’m already professionally trained at putting up with almost anything. I knew I could make it. To my “disappointment” he is exactly the opposite. He amazes me everyday and I don’t usually get amazed that easy. He is very rich but he is so humble about it. He doesn’t considers himself entitled to stuff like I thought he would; he doesn’t think that he is better then others and he treats me like his equal. His dream is to one open a fine dining restaurant that has a second floor where he could host about ten orphans or so. Those kids could work in his restaurant for some extra cash and in the same time they would learn some culinary and food service industry skills. “That way it would be easier for them to start a life on their own after they turn eighteen!” he said. Honestly, this is the greatest idea I heard in a very long time.

My job is pretty easy. He lost his drivers license because of an accident (completely destroyed his brand new, hundred grand BMW) so I drive him around in his other car, a Mercedes; I’m still shaking every time I’m sitting behind that wheel. He would do meetings; I would read in coffee shops. We would go to the gym; I get to work out in a private gym for free.

Yoga, he also takes me to do yoga and I love it. It’s very relaxing and with all that heat I find myself sometimes on one leg, all stretched up thinking how in the world have I ended up in this position. The only think I don’t get about Yoga are some of the people that do it. I say hi to them, smile, I think that’s the polite think to do when you are about to sweat your ass off in front of somebody and they just luck at me like I’m a crazy person. I told The Boss about that it and he explained that they are just in their Zen, they don’t even see me. And why in general do I smile at strangers he asked.

Andrew (The Boss) also reads. He has a pretty good book selection. I didn’t think rich people read anymore. He gave me this book – “Lives of the Monster Dogs”, it’s pretty good. What it seams weird, the book was printed in 1998 but the time in the book starts November 2009. I thought it’s funny especially how the writer at one point says “after the marked crashed”. But this is just a dream, strange things happen in dreams.

Anyway, I have to run. Thanksgiving tomorrow and according to my dream, I’m spending it with you guys. I thought that I’m going to make something this year as I’m trying so hard to become an American. I thought of making something for the girls in jail but I quickly changed my mind, they didn’t even let me have my glasses the whole time I was there, they definitely won’t let them have my turkey and sangria.

Love, K.:)

P.S. Don’t wake me up!