'I´ll were a rose'

John waited with a bouquet of roses, but nobody came. He walked over to the nearest bar, and drank a cup of coffee. He tried to call her, but she did not answer. He decided to go home. On the way back to the hotel, John’s phone rang. It was the girl, she said he should meet her, in her flat at North Manhattan at Frederick Douglass boulevard.

He took the underground over there. It was one of these red projects, but she sounded nice. He walked up to the tenth floor and knocked on the door. She opened, but she wasn’t that nice, she had a gun and it was pointing at him. She said he should come in, like nothing was wrong. He sat down, and asked the woman how she knew that he was waiting for a girl. She said it was obvious, a man standing with a bouquet of roses. John noticed she was a junkie, because there were needles all over the floor. She told him to write his card numbers down, give her his bankcard, driving license, passport, and other useful things. While she was putting all his things in a safe, he took a needle from the floor, ran over to the junkie, and stuck the needle in her neck. He took his phone and called 911, so he took the rest of his things. He ran down to the street, and pulled over a taxi.