A Perfect Night for Business

I like her scarf.

I like the thread - chunky and soft, the kind that nuzzles your cheek and begs you never to take it off. 

-The warmth and softness remind me of my mom. I miss her. Bad. She was better at this than anyone in the family-

I bet she knitted that scarf herself. Ah, there's the ball of yarn by the chair; not much left. 

I'll take one of those scarves.

It's funny. Someone with the money for those diamond earrings and that quality of pearls and gold - why would she bother to knit? She can buy it or pay someone to knit for her. Why bother with knitting? So slow.

I'll take all of those. 

Mom always said I was too impatient. But I think she'd agree that I was patient enough on this one. Look at those watches! So rich. But if I'm too "impatient," I don't need a watch. I have too many anyway.

Leave that. 

Why is there a wine glass on the bathroom sink? Why would she drink wine in the bathroom? There are lipstick prints on it. That's a dark shade. I wonder what her hair color is? I didn't notice when I watched her leave earlier-her hair brush has dark red in it-I don't think that lipstick color would go well. But hey, I'm not the million dollar mistress. I guess she knows what she's doing as far as that goes. 

She's kind of a slob. Leaving her Kleenex with that black crudy mascara laying all over the countertop. I wonder what she's like. I bet she has that annoying, cheesy laugh that makes horny rich schmucks fall all over themselves. Xanax....ooph. I guess I'd have a hard time looking at myself, too, without a little help from that if I had her job.

Nothing here.

I guess I have enough. 

The window is still an option, but I think I'll just leave out the door. No one is around anyway; everyone's downtown watching that stupid ball drop and getting it on with people like this lady in hotels. 

A perfect night for business.