The most important man in the single gal's life is not her father, her brother, her boyfriend, her best friend, her trainer or even her bartender. . .it's her maintenance man. Trust me, ladies and gents, laugh all you want, but I speak the truth. Ever since I've embarked on this great adventure of living alone, I have been met with a great many challenges that have helped me to grow as a strong, independent, self assured young woman. However, that being said, there have also been quite a few times where, even I, will admit that it would have been nice to have a man around (i.e. to be my wing man during the great roach incident). Well, ask and you shall receive folks because lo and behold the universe looked down, took pity upon my poor single soul and sent me the greatest gift a girl could ask for. . .Martine.
I remember the first day we met. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, flowers were blooming and there was a sweet summer breeze that filled the air. I had just moved in and the building manager had called me to her office to retrieve a rather large package that had been delivered for me. When I got there, I realized that it was the infamous futon that I had decided would serve as my bed.
Once the building manager awkwardly asked me where my boyfriend/fiance was to help me carry the box and was then shocked to find out that I possessed neither, she started rambling off in Spanish about "girls today" and began feeling around her cluttered desk for her walkie-talkie. It was then that she called to the heavens and summoned down the angel, Martine to help me. Now, me, being the stubborn ass that I am, insisted that I could handle the situation by myself (Note: this office that I had to go to is in fact across the street in my complex's sister building). So, there I was dragging this massive piece of crap out the double doors and into the street. Well, the manager must not have had faith in my capabilities (not that I blame her) and called for Martine anyways - and thank goodness because as I attempted to pull the futon off the curb and into the street, I stumbled over the curb myself, lost my grip on the box and wound up sprawled out in the street, underneath that friggin futon. As I laid there, preparing to see the white light. . .or get laughed at by passerbys my savior, Martine arrived.
Now, Martine is by no means a Roman god, but rather a little old Spanish man with a white santa beard, a beer gut and a balding head covered up by an old, faded baseball cap. However, he has a little heart of gold, god bless his soul. He ran right over and lifted the box off of me, helping me to my feet. He smiled and in broken English scolded me for taking it by myself. As he lifted the box with great ease and led me across the street to my apartment, he lectured me about what was and was not safe for chicas to be doing. When we finally reached my door, I thanked him profusely and reached to give him a hug. Well, I don't know if I honored him or scared the shit out of him because the look in his eyes was definitely friendly and yet, freaked the fuck out at the same time. After that, I continued to wave to him and ask him about his day when I saw him. I've even met his daughter and chatted about Dora the Explorer. At first, I thought he took a liking to me because I was the only person in the building who was under the age of 40 and didn't look like Rick Ross, but then I realized that I'm pretty sure I'm just the only person that ever says hi to him and asks him about his day - and let me tell you what folks - I don't even go to that office anymore. Martine picks up my packages from the office before I even get notified that they have arrived and leaves them inside my apartment for me. If I need a lightbulb changed or a drain unclogged I need not wait an hour before my needs are attended to. He even opens the laundry room for me after hours if I run out of panties and need to run an emergency late night load. I've never considered myself much of a a good Catholic, but let me tell you I thank God every day for sending me that man. We've only just met, but I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
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