Time Lost

I'm sitting on a cold, hard bench with my back up against the wall. The wall, along with its other three partners, is painted light blue. It‘s the same blue used in most insane asylums. I guess it's supposed to be soothing. It isn't.

I keep glancing down at my Rolex to see how long I've been here-it feel like an eternity-but like the previous forty times I've looked, my wrist is empty. I'm disturbed because in the world I live in time is money. It is the foundation upon which I have based my whole life. I'm trying to recall the last time I saw my watch, but for some reason I can't remember.

I don't why I'm here in this dreary waiting room. There are no tired, outdated magazines. No generic elevator music is playing. My only form of entertainment is banging my head against the crazy-bin blue wall. Occasionally I ask the receptionist how much longer. She always responds the same way.

"Soon," she says.

She stares at me each time I ask. At first I believed she was smiling at me, but now that I've had what seems like an eternity to think about it-it's not a smile. I recognize the look. I've seen it reflected in the fearful eyes of the two or three dozen interns I've fired over the years. I shiver and bang my head against the wall.

I‘m not wearing any shoes or any socks. My Italian loafers are gone. I try to recall the last time I wore them and why I'm not wearing them now, but I can't remember

I still have my nice dark gray suit on-custom made. No red power tie-the tie I ‘m wearing is light blue-the same blue as the walls. I know my wife picked it. She doesn't understand that red makes a statement. All my corporate takeovers have been with a red tie. I'm disturbed by not having my shoes, my socks, and my tie, and still no watch. I wiggle my wrist hoping that my Rolex will magically reappear. It's doesn't.

I think about what my wife and kids may be doing. I wish I was at home with them or out with my wife at that Italian restaurant she likes or at my son's game or my daughter's recital. My wife handles the family. I'm always too busy-making money, selling and buying real estate, building up the old portfolio. I'm good at it. It works. I'm good at ignoring the pain in their voices when I call and tell them I'm working late. Sometimes I really am working late, but sometimes I'm doing other things-things they don't know or want to know about. Anyway they don't have any trouble spending my money. I let them. I'm trying to recall the last time I saw them, but I can't remember.

I can't find my Blackberry. I want to call Charles to come and pick me up in the limo. I don't have my laptop. I can't check the market to see if it's up or down or check my off shore accounts. I'm trying to recall the last time I had all these things, but like everything else I can't remember.

I wait. I check my arm, bang my head, and miss my watch, my phone, my computer, my limo, my family. I wait and wait and wait-for what seems like an eternity.

The secretary is telling me that I can go in now. I see a door open. I get up quickly, fearful that it may close, and I will be left waiting again. I enter a large room. No blue in this room-all the walls are painted a black. There are no windows. I want to tell the tall thin man behind the desk he needs a new decorator. I don't.

He looks at me. His eyes are as black as the walls that surround him. There is no life in them-they show nothing. He asks me if I have been waiting a long time. I tell him I have.

I ask him if he has my watch. I already know the answer. He does. It is on his wrist.

He looks down at the Rolex and back up at me. "Do you want it back?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply.

"Be careful what you wish for," he tells me. He smiles. At least I think it is a smile. I'm not sure.

The man pushes a button and as the floor falls out from under me, and I plunge to the depths of hell, I see that my watch is finally back on my wrist where it belongs.

"Maybe it will help you to understand how long eternal damnation is," he shouts down to me." He laughs.

I look at my watch. He's right. It is a long time. I've been here for what seems like an eternity. I bang my head against the wall and wait and wait and wait.

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