I need to call in and see what the hell is going on. Do you mind?”“Nope. This should be entertaining.”The odds of the supervisors being at their...desks were extremely low. I knew they were probably running around losing their fucking minds, hoping to God that I wasn’t about to walk in through the doors. I called the main department line for the secretary. She was usually at her desk—that was her fucking job.“This is Darlene.”“I’m going to kill you.”“Celine?”“Why didn’t you call me?”“Um—”“You. It was the front desk. Our cab would be there at 10pm as requested. My wife gave the driver the address and he then spent most of the half hour drive talking and trying to look up my wife's dress in the rear view mirror. It was just about 10:30 Wednesday evening when the cabbie dropped us off across the street from the theater as he tried one last time to get a glimpse between her legs, but didn't stand much of a chance as we didn't want to exit into traffic and got out from the passenger. More

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