Theodore
Desperation grows in me as I fight the bags out of the cab’s trunk and plan how I will carry them up.
The driver asks me several times, offering to help me, but I decline every time, not wanting even to attract more attention than this scatterbrained action will on its own.
As soon as I have all the bags out in the street, I make the decision to enter by a secondary entry, escaping the prying eyes of the bitches at the reception and the people roaming the entrance hall.
I have made a fool out of myself for long enough, and I really don’t want to pull up more embarrassing scenes.
While hauling my bags to the underground parking, I pray to the heavens that I won’t be run over by some rich guy who would sue me for being so stupid to be in his way and denting his car.
Groan
