She eats it at home, whenever she can, and it doesn’t matter what time of day, really.  It could be later morning, afternoon before dinner, and of course in the evening before bed, especially if it’s been a stressful day.  She’s aware of her figure, since all men tend to get whiplash when she walks down the street and gaze helplessly at her rhythmic hips as she walks and her tight skirt shows how eager it is to cling to her energetic but lithe ballerina legs, always controlling the gentle feminine bouncing of her body and long, curly hair, while softly caressing the movement of the supple opulence she carries behind.

She understands that men can’t help it, and her wide sunglasses hide the sparkle of her azure-blue eyes when she sees the excitement they show, through her peripheral vision.  But she knows she cannot live without ice cream, and to preserve her diamond-starred looks, she frequently finds herself at the gym, often with a trainer who is dedicated to maintaining her goals.  Sometimes during the workouts, she will use earbuds and listen to her favorite band, the Imagine Dragons, and other times, she will listen to a romantic action comedy or perhaps a thriller that must have fast-paced action while she runs on the treadmill, or rides the stair-stepper, while the men on her sides, fight for the machines next to her, and try to run faster to impress her, but they usually fail to impress or run faster, and quit before she does, or nearly fall off the machine in exhaustion.  She sees them, smiles a radiant smile, then walks away to go home and do some work.

Sometimes, she will take her lap top to a coffee shop that also has a wide selection of Ice cream and order coffee and her all time favorite:  cookies and cream ice cream.  She will immerse herself in her work while making sure she takes intermittent spoonful of cookies and cream before it melts. Clothing manufacturers hire her and send her all over the world to advertise their fashion designs and swimwear, knowing that when she wears their designs, they are much more likely to sell to women who want to look that good, and stores that cater to them. They often fly her to places where there are beautiful beaches and sites that take the breath away, whether that be the Greek Isles, Paris, Rio De Janeiro, The Swiss Alps, the Maldives or The Cannes film festival.  She is a professional and doesn’t mix business with pleasure from suitors, and she has many of these.  To her, they all seem vain and narcissistic jet-setters who get whatever they want, but do not have the heart and soul of a good man that she yearns for.

Whenever she is on a beach working, she remembers some of her favorite beaches from her earlier years at home, such as Takapuna beach on the North Island where she enjoyed sailing with her friends, or Maitay Bay or sometimes Ninety Mile Beach. But despite the beauty that she enjoys on the job, she understands that she must be careful in this world, and only surround herself with good people. After she reviewed the details of her next travel assignment, she finished her last spoonful of cookies and cream ice cream, and started gathering her things to go home because her little dog was waiting for her. As she got up, she glanced in back of her to be aware of her surroundings as she was taught, and she saw an old man at the bar, his back to her, drinking a Guinness, with a hooked cane leaning next to him, with his hair resembling a white blizzard of Chaos with a LA Dodgers cap on top.  She thought he looked out of place, and a little like Einstein, then, as she turned around to go to the door, he turned around and said to her:

“Young lady, you dropped an envelope under your table. It might be important.”

Surprised, her face turned slightly crimson, when she looked down and saw the envelope, sure enough, under her vacant table.  She picked it up and saw that it was addressed to her, but no return address.  She was shocked that this old man, with his back turned, would find this envelope addressed to her.  Curious but with some trepidation, she felt compelled to walk up to the old man, because, after all, he looked harmless.

“Thank you, sir,” she said.  “I didn’t know I had a letter in my purse, but then, there’s a lot of stuff in there.  But how did you ­—?”

The old man smiled, looked at her with his steel blue eyes and said, “Sometimes in life there are things we can’t know, but they happen.  Happens to me all the time.  Anyway, next time, I will join you for some cookies and cream, if you don’t mind.  It’s on me.”

She hesitated, dumbfounded by what she just witnessed and the improbability, then finally said, “Well, sure, but how did you know —”

“Have a good day, and enjoy the blessings bestowed upon you.”

She walked out, leaving the old man with his Guinness and felt her heart race as she looked forward to traveling to her coveted new photo-shoot adventure, and at the same time, wondering who was this old man who seemed so caring, but mysterious.

© SRCarson Publications. 2025