I love it when people are LATE

I love it when people are late. A little pat on the back that maybe, I’m not alone in being known for my constantly-late endearing quality, but yes, there are other, creatively-like minded people-pleasers (no doubt a hint of procrastination prone) rushing to find the next location in their life.

Such an event occurred around 7pm last Thursday night. Posh and polished in a designer number reserved for invoking a “Hey-Wow” head-turn. My feet touting slick Jimmy Choo peek-toes, which would no doubt would require Advil hours later. I saunter through the Sushi restaurant with a powerful agenda, Ahem three men in mind.

I hate to say it, but I don’t mind writing it so much. Life is strung together by hours, night turns into day, and it’s easy to forget that time is spent quickly. Opportunity can dwindle, and dreams are like batteries in a drawer, you reach a point where you either hook em’ up or they go dead because you waited too long to ever turn them on.

God has always graced me with the second chances. Most of my flaws are by no means unconscious. When I weigh my options I choose the more fun, exciting, titillating of paths. Forgetting that every iota of fate in my life has been carefully calculated and subsequently capitalized on. No luck goes unspent. And while I believe in making friends like stacking US treasury bonds (because I love people, the stories of people, the way people act and think and feel) I never understood what cashing out looks like.

And while I pinch myself and knock on every viable wood surface… I shrug, knowing that at the end, if I kept moving forward, there was no choice, but to happen.

The three men had started an internet company, so brilliant and unique it made facebook look like kid’s play. And they wanted me, Auna Jornayvaz to be the girl that helped turned it on. To help them shape a concept so hot it could turn itself on.

Flushed I reached the table where they were already sipping their expensive wine. Staring up towards me they smiled, aware I was a bit flustered from being late. “Not to worry, we were late too. We just arrived.” The oldest (25-years-old) handsome man said.

I breathed a sigh of relief and settled into the chair left empty at their table, the chair they reserved. The space in their company that they said, only I could fill.

“So, where shall we start? Target demo? Generate media buzz? Entrench ourselves in the community of power players?” Quickly skimming my brain for the necessary conversation that took a trip to Manhattan to make.

“Let’s start with the wine list.” The one in the suede azure jacket laughed.