Chapter 14
Jesus Saved Me.


Right around Christmas last year, how appropriate because it’s a story about Jesus, I meet this huge mountain of a man, Shrek with a beard. His name is Jesus. In Spain you pronounce it Hey-Zeus, and many men have this name, but not as many as Paco, Juan or Jose. There is also Paquito, Juanito, and Josito, which means the smaller version of. I never heard of a Jesuito, except the religious order, Jesuits, which now I realize means the little Jesuses in suits.

Jesus has an IT company and unfortunately for him, someone recommended that he call me. I needed help. My former IT person and right hand had left me. The person that I knew I could not live without, who I told daily, “I can not live without you”, left me anyway. (Hey if you are reading this, you Little Shithead I am alive and well!)

We made an agreement that Jesus would try to resurrect my drooping website and try to manage it long distance. LS (Little Shithead) also did the all graphics, photography, e-blasting, web maintenance, shipping, and customer service. LS to this day is the smartest person I ever met. And did everything in 5 minutes.

I was grateful that Jesus came into my life and then brought Miss P, the graphic designer genius who was a housewife and mom of 4, never studied art and was an avid accordion player and jam maker. Who do you know that plays the accordion and can make jam at the same time? Raise you hands, please.

So we start the new team. I immediately change Jesus´s name to Rocky as 99% of my business is in the states and I don’t know how my customers will react getting email notifications from Jesus. He doesn’t mind, and soon Rocky becomes my Rock.

We all know that men were put on this planet solely to fix things for women, no matter how entrepreneurial we are, it is still necessary for us, or let’s say me to have someone around to fix anything that has a plug, hard drive, download, wires in general, and cables in specific. By Jesus transitionning into Rocky, this gave him another woman in his life, besides his own wife, without the wifely benefits that he was entitled to, but according to him, he seldom collected.

To say that I didn’t drive him crazy with demands, especially on weekends, when it has been forbidden for centuries, for Spanish people to work on those precious two days, as football and paella parties are the only things that fill Saturday and Sunday. I am convinced when Christopher Columbus left Spain to discover the New World it was on a Monday.

I was financially challenged after paying everyone that did all the work that LS did, there just isn’t enough to go around. I work for free; as I am doing something I love, so that means it is ok to do it for no money, right? I convinced Miss P that I had just signed her up for the shoe of the month club, plus free fashion tips of what she should wear when hosting a birthday party for  twenty-five 6 year olds.


On the street Peggy's shoes and my bag
On the street Peggy’s shoes and my bag _ Follow me on Instagram


Rocky is cool with the money situation, except the one day he walked me to the nearest ATM with a Beretta semi automatic pistol pointed at my head. In true Spanish tradition, he bought me a coffee afterwards.

But I have found Jesus’ sweet spot, and I am trying to convince him with this diary entry that this is the only way to go, paying him with one of my very best talents. Something that I know no man can refuse, something so delicious no man can resist, sweet, warm and soft……
My homemade chocolate chip cookies, the exact same secret recipe from the original David’s cookies circa 1980s, on demand, like HBO.

Cookies versus Money: the money either goes into the company, or your home. Either way it disappears, is taxed, and evaporates as quickly as you get it. Or the bank gets it, or your employees, the money pays for electricity, the telephone, all the necessary things that are really nothing to do with personal pleasure, just the responsibility of being an Adult.

But being paid in Cookies is a whole different story, Secret Cookie Stash, (SCS) that no one knows you have, cookies that you do not have to share. Something that is completely your own and a private pleasure. A form of payment that only you benefit from, bite by bite, cookie by cookie. Eating as much as you like, where ever you like, in the car, in the office, walking down the street, even in the toilet. Cookies in your jacket pocket close to heart. Cookies that are made with the best dark chocolate that just melts in your mouth and says with every bite,

“ I love you Rocky, I really really do…”