So I’m in the hotel elevator, and the door opens when it reaches the lobby. Standing there is a cute smiling blond gal in her twenties, clutching a large bed pillow to her… but that’s not what’s notable. Above the pillow? Bare arms, bare shoulders. Below the pillow? bare legs, down to her sandals. This is a good sign. I mean, in the history of men, there has never been a sad story that starts with the words “the elevator doors opened to reveal a grinning naked blond clutching a pillow to her chest.” There’s a reason Penthouse magazine didn’t have a “tragedy” section.
And then she passes me, and it turns out that she’s wearing a tube top and short shorts. Ah, well.
As I approached East A Street, I checked my GPS. It said “E A St”. Makes sense to me!
A sign on the door of a bar in a rather run-down section of the city:
or a shopping cart