Write four lines of prose about: The Fly-by-Night Detective Agency.
Not sure where that came from, but it sounded like fun. Plus it might inspire something longer or ongoing or recurring from some of us. So here we are.
Work was pretty quiet this evening, other than a packed gym for pickleball. With so many players there's a lot of waiting around to get into a game, which means people are going to stick around as long as possible in the hopes of more time on the court.
Which means I get to kick people out at the end of the night so that I can go home.
Not my favorite thing, but at least they're all adults and can get out fairly quickly when told to. I just wish they didn't need to be told...
"I see here that you require payment upfront," the elderly lady (who had thus far refused to give me her name) said before turning to page four of my three hundred page New Client Agreement package.
"That's right," I told her, shifting around behind my desk in my once-comfortable chair. No one had ever bothered to read that far before.
"And down here, in the teensy tiny font," she continued, holding up the page so that I could see the offending paragraph, "am I correct to say that this clause requires me to pay for all of your expenses - including... or is that especially... online pornography subscriptions?"