I escaped from the the office the other day to avoid the work canteen and get a sandwich that didn't taste like muck. Waiting to order my turkey, cheese and tomato baguette some girl taps me on the shoulder.
Mr. O'Brien!' in a westcountry accent.
'Hey... you!' Who the fuck is this?
'Don't you remember me? From Aztec? I was checking you out on Thursday.'
Aztec? The building where I was working? That's a bit forward. I gave an uneasy smile and stared blankly at the girl making sandwiches. Hurry up and serve me so I can get out of here! She leisurely spreads butter onto someone's wholegrain roll. Any day now.
Then it comes back to me. 'Ah, Aztec Hotel!'
It was the girl from reception, she checked me out of room 237. Doh.
