I’m standing
at the concierge desk wondering if I need to be signed in, escorted up,
frisked, felt up or what? “Man, I ain’t got time for this shit early this
morning. I’m at work; where the hell you think I’m at?”
“Excuse me,” I
interrupt. “I ain’t try to hear all that noise, I ain’t even look at my cell
phone until I got here this morning.”
“Excuse me,” I say again but this time
knocking on the counter with my knuckles. “By man!” and he pushes the end
button on his cell and looks up at me. Damn, he’s fine for a youngin’ but fine
nonetheless.
“Good morning, do I need to sign in or be escorted to Power
House?” “Naw,” he says emotionless and unmoved by my beauty. Oh well his lost.
I turn and head towards the elevator bank and read the names on the gold list
of offices and suite numbers on the wall.
Power House, Suite 1028. I step in to the elevator and push the number
ten. When the doors close I fix myself using the mirrored elevator doors. My
spikes are spot on, I smooth the wrinkles out in my skirt, and rub the toes of
my shoes on the back of my hose to give them a polished look.
“Ding,” the doors
open, and I almost step out, but realize I’m on the eighth floor instead of the
tenth. A young lady steps in, and doesn’t push any buttons. “Where the hell is
she going?” I ask myself.
“Ding,” finally the tenth floor and we both exit. She
makes a right down the hall, and I’m left standing there looking at the arrows
pointing from left to right. "Damn, I should have said something to her, another
missed opportunity," I said to myself. You never know who is who and I need to
know that with the quickness.
To Be Continued.....
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