As soon as Daisy pressed the elevator door, her nose was greeted with a foul smell, coming from somewhere. Making her way to her office, she made a mental note to have someone look into the matter. One likely of one or more of the janitors not doing their job. Those [blasphemous phrase] people...she wrinkled her nose, passing the conference room and entering her office suite. She locked her handbag and proceeded into the small bathroom.
Oh, she had to pee. When you're 60+, you can't hold it for too long. While the room was small, she did manage to have a somewhat truncated full-length mirror placed in back of the door. While nothing like the 3-way she had at home, the narrow one would have to do. Her hair was a bit out of place, thanks to the [expletive] wind. She continued to examine, and admire, her reflection.
Not bad. Not bad at all. Daisy knew, she hardly looked a day over early thirties. A good age to be, old enough to handle situations, but young enough to enjoy ... things.
What was bad - and getting worse - however was, the appointments were expensive. Very expensive. And frankly, she believed, the quality of the treatments were not as they had been a few years ago, when the procedure was new. Perhaps ... oh, no perhaps about it - they were using, well ... less than quality ingredients, from places like ... well, where those people come from.
Daisy mumbled a curse. Her cell was in her car. The distractions in her life, last Thursday's appointment fell through - and frankly, still gazing at herself, it showed. Coupled with some recent supply issues, it was only a matter of time before the fees would go up - again.
She entered one of the elevator cars, and was met with yet another reminder of her situation. With an audible growl, she ripped and crumpled the announcement, which someone - probably Bbbeeeckyyy...ugh! had taped up late last week. Frank's retirement party. Good [Expletive] Riddance!
Really, he was an idiot anyway. His heart condition was his own fault, one which could be resolved - if not lessened greatly - by simply taking the upload. Not that Daisy particularly cared; she clearly didn't like him from the get-go. He'd say inappropriate things, and converse with ... well, the wrong sort of people.
A qwik example: Daisy had been on her way to a meeting, sometime last year, when she had caught part of a brief conversation between Ffrrrank and some guy with ... of all things, a trash barrel in tow. Something miss-becky-of-sunnybrook-farm had done, for so-n-so. Daisy didn't get the details, and really didn't care. But Frank's "if I was ten years younger, I'd ..." response, for some reason, set her off. Thing is: she didn't even like Frank; he wasn't her type. And the very last Daisy was interested in was, ugh... marriage.
Daisy couldn't even fathom why people even bothered with that anymore. Frankly, overnight was more than enough; which was why she preferred hoteling ... let the staff clean up the mess. That way, in the morning, or whenever she returned to her home, her large rooms remained unsullied from ... other people's odors. Better yet was - and this is why she usually put the room on her card - whenever who, or "they" were perceptive enough to take the hint, and leave shortly after the evening's fun-n-games were over. That didn't always work out, however; sometimes, she simply made up a reason to take offense - at nothing, really - and he, she, it, or whatever, would pull on it's duds, and leave...good riddance.
There's yard work to be done, back in 2021. More later.
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