“I’m here to see Dr. Hekima,” I say to the flabby security guard in the lobby.
“He’s expecting you,” the man says. “Just go straight to class.”
I verify where “class” is, and in a few minutes, I find myself on the fifth floor, “in class.”
I’m not sure where the moniker “class” came from, given how much of a dump this place is. It seems better suited for the Glue Sniffers Anonymous support group on those days when they can’t find a better location. With folding chairs against the walls, a stale coffee pot station, and peeling wall paint, it doesn’t resemble a classroom at all, and is overall lacking in the classiness department.
A man—the only person in the room—gets up from one of the folding chairs with a warm smile. “Hello, Sasha. I’m Dr. Hekima.”
If Morgan Freeman were cast to play
