She must have had another drink or two because the odor was pretty strong. I asked why she wasn't in her room, and she said, "You were so nice to me, ... had to do something nice for you. Can I at least thank you with a drink?"Now, I'm not a drinker. Maybe a glass of wine with dinner. Out of courtesy, I said, "Sure - as long as you're buying, I'm pouring!" I placed her "bar" on the wet bar in my suite and invited her to sit. Assuming she'd go to the sofa or chair, I was taken aback to see she. After a few minutes, she wrestles enough strength to turn slightly over onto her side, careful not to sit down squarely on her sore ass. A few wipes of her cheeks to rid herself of her dripping makeup and the car door is slid open for her to exit the van. I watch as she walks gingerly to the entrance of the dance studio as I clean myself up and follow behind her. 8:21pm. It is a difficult ballet recital. I can not tell if she is just not cut out to be a ballerina or if it is the ache that still. More

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