After an apparently simple selection process, Diego Pirita begins working as a receptionist at a passing hotel. The first instructions you receive make one thing clear: no matter what happens, one of the rooms must always be kept empty to receive a distinguished customer. It could come in the next few minutes or it could come in many years. The only sure thing is that it will not warn.

Leonardo Teja, with wild humor, explores a society that has erected its norms, customs and habits around an inevitable watershed. In the uncertain universe of this novel, waiting for the imminent equally governs the education of children, the working life of adults and television programs. Incongruity is also a form of exorcism for those who have stopped wondering when the Great Earthquake will come, instead asking what we should do in the meantime.