Hotel Royal

“When was the last time you went to a party where people did not talk about hedge funds, and real estate, and 401k?”

The two men were sitting in the lobby, drinking some Italian coffee, waiting for the important client to come down. They were both wearing striped suits. A leather briefcase was sitting next to the elegant armchair, calm, black, and important.

“Huh?” said the second man.

“You know, a party where people talked about exams and vacation plans. Where they had a contest who could drink more. Where there was someone you were dying to see, but you didn’t dare talk to.”

“I dunno, Frank. What’s up with you lately?” said the second man.

“When was the last time you rode on a bus? Or somebody asked you what your major was? When was the last time… The last time you were new to something and anxious to learn?”

The second man put his cup down. He leaned over, checking if people were watching. He feigned an air of confidentiality.

“Right here, in the lobby of this hotel? Are you having your midlife crisis right now?”

The first man leaned back and laughed slightly.

Leave a Reply