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I was feeling pretty worn out when I left Miss Johnson’s, so I headed back downtown to my motel to indulge in a nap. My brain needed to be in top form when I briefed Mike and Richard in the afternoon. It’s likely Richard would have some resistance to what I had to tell them, and I wanted to make sure I was able to logically counter every argument. I left a message at the PD’s office that he and Mike could reach me at my room.
While no longer so painful, disrobing was awkward, so I settled for removing my shoes and lying on top of the sheets. I was wearing thin-soled, hemp pseudo-Mary Janes, the closest thing to slippers I could find that I could still wear in public. I felt like a hippie Ninja. There was very little cushioning between the soles of my feet and the ground, but there was
