Her feet were killing her and she sat down on the edge of the bed to kick off her high heels. “Goddamn the bastard that invented these things, let a...one made them mandatory to wear during business meetings.” She sipped wine and chuckled as she re-played the days events. There were so many stuffed shirts in the area, she wasn’t sure if she was at a business meeting or at a Woolworth’s department store window. “How many assholes can be crowded into one little room?” She shook her head. “Help Me…”. "Thisseems awfully formal." I said, opening it up and showing it toher.She nodded and held her hand out. I gave her my wallet. Sheglanced at my license. "Mmm" she said. "Terrible picture. Thisyour signature on it?" Yes." I said, holding my hand out for my wallet to be returned.She stared at me calmly and passed it to Margaret instead. Sheexamined my license then closed the wallet and put it down onthe table in front of her. Shoved a sheet of paper across to mewith a pen. "Sign on the dotted. More

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