That this man is mine. ‘Yes sir, ma-am? An alternative flight or an hotel for the night?’ she asked, noting the look in my eye and the arm of Sher...y almost hugging me. ‘Hotel please, for the two of us. I’m fed up with this airport already, and would rather have a daylight flight than a night one.’ ‘Certainly sir,’ she said as she wrote of a card and handed it to me. ‘The Hilton. There is a bus waiting for those that choose the hotel. Have a pleasant evening.’ ‘We intend to,’ said Sherry,. “Can you fix it?” I kindly requested. “Yep … that’s what your husband pays me for.” I turned away and finally allowed my eyes to roll. It felt good, like the small act was invented solely to relive my vexation. I’ve worked with this man each month for two years, and it’s the same old shit; he comes, he checks the water, he tells me there’s a problem, waits for me to ask him to do his job, and then does it. “Sounds good,” I replied habitually. I looked around the small addition off the back of. More

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