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.Yes, that's me. I need your help. How fast can you get to the Embassy Suites? .... We are in room 835.... My partner will brief you when you get here... Ten minutes is perfect... I'll see you then." Then, Janine sat at the makeup mirror and slid open a hidden compartment on the table skirt. She pulled out a little vial and tapped a small amount of powder on the glass top and scraped it into a line with a credit card. Then, with a rolled up bill, she inhaled, making the line disappear. "Ahhh,” she moaned aloud. I continued on with the business I came in here for. Sitting on the tub edge, I lathered myself with the gel and made careful strokes with the razor, watching my hair come off in clumps. Somehow, this was sexually stimulating. The very thought of another person other than my parents seeing me baby-naked was incredibly erotic. I finally emerged from the shower, wrapped in a towel. Janine beckoned me over. "Let me see," she said, reaching under my towel. "It's fine," I moved. A bit like going on Google, only the person on the other end would actually help explain it in better terms, so that even my track jock of a room-mate could understand it. That was Tony for you: always taking short cuts whenever he could. As for me, I still liked books. The head librarian and I were on first name terms, and had been since my freshman year. Tony was out for the evening at some party, I had some course research I wanted to get started on, so I stayed in. The computer still pinged from time to time, often with stupid questions. ‘Did OJ really do it?’ ‘How many times is a katana blade folded to make a perfect sword?’ Oh boy, did that debate get heated. Hell, even the question of how to make the best home-made apple pie got asked once. That debate brought out so many of the students phoning home for mom’s traditional recipes that even the Dean put his two cents worth into the debate. It shocked the heck out of everyone that he even had an account. So to borrow a.
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