I’m going to diet hell. I know this because I ate a sausage and egg muffin for breakfast. I was in the mood for two egg patties and a bagel. Because they had to prepare so many sandwiches for the soccer team guests, they ran out of eggs. So, I chose one of the sausage and egg muffins already made. It was good too. Hit the spot with its spicey flavor. As I was throwing the aluminum foil wrapper away, it hit me. It wasn’t indigestion. I suddenly remembered how long it would take me to work off that sausage.
Almost like I thought it would lesson my offense, I decided to exercise which meant I hadn’t taken any break this week. My legs started cramping up after five minutes. In expiation, I kept walking anyway. I caught my reflection in the store windows as I walked by wearing my purple fleece jacket. My reflection looked like a grape. With my hood up, I
might even pass for a hungry tick.
I was still dressed like a piece of fruit when I stopped to talk at the front desk. My back was to him when Mr. Godiva walked behind me rolling his luggage. I looked just in time to see him heading for the elevators. “Oh, no, he’s leaving!” I whispered frantically to my friend and Confidante working the front desk. I wanted to tackle Mr. Godiva by his feet, except I didn't want his last memory of me to be looking like a sweaty grape.
Although I haven’t seen him yet, word has it another extended stay guest is back. He’s a strange duck. No one can get into his room to clean it. When he first arrived, he commandeered three small refrigerators for his room. Talk abounds they’re full of body parts but no one is certain.
For the past two weeks, there’s been a leak in the hallway ceiling on the way to the gym. A small, blue trash can had been placed on the floor to catch the drips, but you know how people do. Leave a garbage can in the middle of the hall and someone’s gonna put garbage in it. Recently, I noticed the drip has increased in size and speed while the ceiling
has developed a distinctly rounded, yet familiar bulge.
As the afternoon rolls on, more and more of the weekend commandos have checked in. You can always tell they’re here by the sounds of doors slamming in the hallways and people yelling to each other like they're still outside. Four p.m.—midnight, it doesn’t
matter. And,somehow they think by walking into the hallway to talk on their
cell phone they’ll have more privacy. Like the rest of us can’t hear 'em.
It doesn’t look like I’ll be playing pool tonight. Said Confidante is off duty and I refuse to play with someone I can’t beat. Don’t tell him I said that.
Almost like I thought it would lesson my offense, I decided to exercise which meant I hadn’t taken any break this week. My legs started cramping up after five minutes. In expiation, I kept walking anyway. I caught my reflection in the store windows as I walked by wearing my purple fleece jacket. My reflection looked like a grape. With my hood up, I
might even pass for a hungry tick.
I was still dressed like a piece of fruit when I stopped to talk at the front desk. My back was to him when Mr. Godiva walked behind me rolling his luggage. I looked just in time to see him heading for the elevators. “Oh, no, he’s leaving!” I whispered frantically to my friend and Confidante working the front desk. I wanted to tackle Mr. Godiva by his feet, except I didn't want his last memory of me to be looking like a sweaty grape.
Although I haven’t seen him yet, word has it another extended stay guest is back. He’s a strange duck. No one can get into his room to clean it. When he first arrived, he commandeered three small refrigerators for his room. Talk abounds they’re full of body parts but no one is certain.
For the past two weeks, there’s been a leak in the hallway ceiling on the way to the gym. A small, blue trash can had been placed on the floor to catch the drips, but you know how people do. Leave a garbage can in the middle of the hall and someone’s gonna put garbage in it. Recently, I noticed the drip has increased in size and speed while the ceiling
has developed a distinctly rounded, yet familiar bulge.
As the afternoon rolls on, more and more of the weekend commandos have checked in. You can always tell they’re here by the sounds of doors slamming in the hallways and people yelling to each other like they're still outside. Four p.m.—midnight, it doesn’t
matter. And,somehow they think by walking into the hallway to talk on their
cell phone they’ll have more privacy. Like the rest of us can’t hear 'em.
It doesn’t look like I’ll be playing pool tonight. Said Confidante is off duty and I refuse to play with someone I can’t beat. Don’t tell him I said that.