You would think that if a person only lived a flight or two from the lobby that they’d take the stairs, right? Taking the stairs from such low floors is usually much faster than waiting for the elevator. And in the event that the elevator is already full, you now have to wait for another one. At that point, you might as well just walk down the stairs.
But no. There are lazy people who don’t want to take the stairs. They’re rather wait over a minute for an elevator than just take ten seconds to go down some stairs. And it’s even worse when it’s people who don’t even belong in the building.
Seriously, who’s too lazy to take the stairs? Continue reading Really, the Third Floor?
I was still trying to recover from the embarrassment that happened on Monday. I never heard a response from William, so I have a feeling he thinks I’m crazy or weird. Honestly, I wouldn’t blame him–I’m somebody beneath his sophisticated caliber.
And on top of that, I haven’t seen him all day, so he must be avoiding me. Then again, I’ve been trying to avoid him myself. Maybe I was doing a good job of staying out of line of sight. I hope it stays that way for another week or two.
I needed to find Julia to see if maybe she saw him anytime today. I hope lunch today will be loud and busy enough to be a distraction, just in case William happened to be there.
I ignored her question, replying with one of my own, “Is he in here?”
“You’re really stuck on trying to avoid him as much as possible, huh?”
If she was in my position, Julia would want to do the same thing.
Alexandria didn’t have much of a choice when she was waiting at the table. The entire room was a bit small, but much larger than what she was already use to. The only thing that could have made it better was having some windows to let some light in.
A woman slowly entered the room and took a seat in the chair on the other side of the table, a small smile on her face.
So this was the woman Alexandria was forced to see from now on?
So far, it is going great. I had originally prepared myself for some kind of intense interrogation, thinking of some answers to questions beforehand, but they’ve been acting really nice and not threatening to me. At least, not yet. Sometimes things going too smoothly is a bad thing.
“So, Eric,” Mrs. Hudson begins, “What’s Henrietta’s best trait about her?”
My honest answer is to talk about how big her boobs are, but I don’t think her mother would like that. Instead, I’ll just say, “She knows how to make people laugh with her cheesy puns.”
Mrs. Hudson smiles. Right answer.
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