-"Hello, daddy…what a surprise, huh…!? Surely you are wondering who I am... That doesn't matter, baby. The only thing you have to keep in mind is that when i grab you I'm going to leave you dry... You won't be able to believe how I'm going to give you, little one; I get all wet just talking to you…ahhh….Well, I have to cut it off. But go preparing yourself for the best bedridden of your life, sweetheart… Bye, see you soon”
After hearing this, modulated by the most sensual female voice imaginable, Gregorio remained absorbed, rigid, with the telephone tube clutched in his left hand until 25 seconds after his interlocutor cut off the communication. He was brought out of his mute stupor by the booming voice of his section chief.
«-You, get to work! I've already told you a thousand times that you can't make or receive personal calls here!-» bellowed his boss, on behalf of the import and export company where Gregorio had worked for over two decades. At 50 years old, he was still far too single for his liking, by profession a petty, chronic administrative clerk, asthmatic, very nearsighted, eternally overweight, owner of thoroughly terrible taste and bad breath, rather bald, and decidedly ugly.
Of course, the rest of the day was not the same as usual for him. While manipulating invoices and delivery notes in the dingy office where he was crammed together with nine other wretches, Gregorio racked his brains thinking about the call he had just received. Because never in his life had a woman spoken to him like that; not even the cheapest and most needy of those pathetic prostitutes that no more than four or five times a year used to frequent, for lack of anything else.
When it was 8:00 p.m. that day, the same as everyone except for the strange call, Gregorio mechanically said goodbye to his companions and went out into the street. Before setting foot on the sidewalk, he looked in all directions. As usual. The things and faces of every afternoon. Nothing special, although somehow, for Gregorio it was all different. As he walked to his apartment, he mentally reviewed each of the words that that voice dripping with sex had thrown at him, without giving him the slightest chance of an answer. His proverbial lack of imagination prevented him from considering the possibility that the mysterious call was a joke concocted by one of his very few friends, so he couldn't get over his surprise.
Thus, turning his head in all directions, he crossed the twelve streets that separated his workplace from the insignificant two-room apartment (more like one and a half) where he lived, his only possession of any importance after 30 years of work.
After a monosyllabic greeting to the doorman of the building, he crossed the entrance and entered the elevator. He reached the fifth floor, and before exiting the elevator completely, he leaned out, carefully observing that there was no one in the peeling hallway. There wasn't, by the way. With a ridiculous little jump, he left the elevator, closing the door with the greatest care, as if he were afraid that the hottie on the phone was going to discover him.
He approached his apartment trying to perceive even the smallest detail of everything that surrounded him. There was nothing strange: the same smell of stale food, the same damp spots on the walls, the usual dirty tiles, and that abandoned air typical of an old and poor building full of people who last instead of living.
He reached his door, put the key in and turned it very slowly. After what seemed like an eternity of time, he was encouraged to enter. Nothing unusual, as he saw when he turned on the light in the living-dining room attached to the tiny kitchen that constituted the most presentable part of the tiny apartment. With a sigh of relief, he took off his threadbare tie, unbuttoned his collar, and tossed away the everlasting coat of now indeterminate color, which might have been navy blue a long time ago. After collapsing into a small chair, she realized that she couldn't stop thinking about that call, and especially couldn't stop hearing that voice worthy of the most cat-like late-night radio announcer in her head.
Minutes passed, and slowly he calmed down thinking that it was a mistake. That no one ever spoke to him like that, and no one ever would. A pitiful mistake by some ardent lover, and no more than that. But the ringing of the phone brought him out of his thoughts. Once again, shaken, he picked up the tube and responded with an almost inaudible "Hello", only to immediately hear the same lusty voice that had shaken him up in the office:
“Papirrín…thank goodness I found you. I wanted to tell you again that I burn with desire for you. I swear that when we finally meet, you won't be able to believe everything I'm going to do to you in bed, my colt. I'm going to suck you up and down, I'm going to leave you breathless, you're going to see what a wild woman in heat is, my love. Luckily it won't be long now, because I don't want to have you between my legs anymore, macho." End of communication, and renewed stupor for Gregorio, who with a trembling hand removed the tube from his ear and hung it badly. He couldn't even ask himself any more questions; with this second call, the chances of error were reduced almost to the point of disappearance.
It took more than an hour until he was able to stop repeating those disturbing words in his mind, was able to get up and walk to the kitchen, to reheat the pasty stew left over from the night before. That, and a minimal sandwich of dubious content at noon (plus some morning coffees) was all he would have to eat that day. The menu was not very different from what it had been on hundreds of other days of his poor life, but today everything seemed very different. He swallowed that quickly, pushing it down with a couple of glasses of cheap wine, and after throwing the dishes into the sink he headed for the tiny bathroom. After the hygienic routines of the case, she took off the few clothes that she had left on and lay down awkwardly on the bed.
(TO BE CONTINUE…)