The most direct route to the stores from Frank’s room was to retrace his steps and go through the lobby. The chatty woman behind the counter was already gone, replaced by a solemn looking young man reading a magazine. He looked up and smiled at Frank as the door opened and tinkled.
“Changed shifts already?” Frank asked, nodding at the young man.
“Oh, you mean Marge? She just went to take care of a customer in the gift shop. Anything I can help you with?”
“No thanks. Actually that’s where I’m heading as well. I understand you have cigars there?”
“Oh sure. We’re licensed to sell package goods as well, if you want. Save you a trip down the road.”
“Package goods? Oh. You mean like liquor. Alcohol.” Frank had heard the term but it was not in common usage in his part of the country. The you
