Somewhat Saved by Pat G'Orge-Walker Page B

Sasha, as tired as they were, fell prey to their own egos and forbade the hotel security from dispersing the crowd before they gave them what they’d asked. They scribbled, “God bless” and “Thank you” on pieces of paper and tossed them to the crowd while smiling and posing for pictures with a few who insisted that they do so.
    Although the deluge only lasted a short time, it was exhausting. When Bea spied the elevator, she snatched Sasha and pushed her toward its opening door. They were already inside before Sasha could protest.
    â€œBea, have you lost your doggone mind?” Sasha’s words were halting but the venom was direct. “You won’t be satisfied until I pray for God’s strength to swat your annoying behind with my precious cane!”
    â€œMind ya manners, Munchkin,” Bea hissed and pointed over toward a young lady whose eyes were wide with fear. She was huddled against the back elevator wall clutching papers.
    Before Bea could apologize for their rude interruption, the elevator bell rang and the young woman departed in a hurry.
    â€œAre you satisfied?” Bea barked. “After that fine welcome we received now people will think we have no class.”
    â€œBea Blister, put your wrinkled claws on me again and I’ll teach you a lesson you never learned in class.”
    They’d gone from celebrity back to prize fighters between the first and sixth floor. The old women fussed, hissed, barked and threatened along the hotel corridor as they searched for the room number.
    After circling the corridor twice, Bea was tired. “This is crazy. I cannot find that room anywhere on this floor.”
    Sasha peered over her glasses at her keycard and, with resignation, added, “Where in the world would they put nine-oh-nine?”
    Temporarily in one accord, they were ready to return to the hotel lobby and tear someone apart at the registration desk. In a snit, the women headed back toward the elevator. On the way, they saw one of the hotel room maids, a young Hispanic woman dressed in a light green uniform.
    As nice as she could, Sasha smiled and said, “We’re looking for our rooms. It’s nine ninety-nine and nine nineteen.” She held up her keycard for the maid to see.
    Balancing towels on one arm and a bag of toiletries in her other, the maid, who was about to enter one of the rooms, placed the items back onto the cart.
    The maid returned the smile. “No problema, senora,” she replied and reached for the keycard in Sasha’s hand. “You should be looking for room six-sixty-six. This is the sixth floor. You looked at the card upside down.” There was just a hint of superiority in her voice.
    â€œThat’s what I told her,” Bea blurted out. She tried to hide her embarrassment and failed as she quickly turned her keycard around in full view of the others.
    â€œSasha Pray Onn, is there any place I can go where you will not be an embarrassment?” Bea asked, shaking her head.
    â€œBea, I’m in no mood for your foolishness.”
    The maid, having seen all types of crazy both back in her country and in Las Vegas, hurried off. She was getting as far away from the old women as she could.

9
    Zipporah’s interview had finished before it began. An hour later and she was back to dealing with defeat. Before she interviewed, she’d already accepted the odds of her getting the job. She was only courageous in her daydreams. Predestining defeat was a mind game she’d played for quite some time.
    Stepping back onto the sidewalk in front of the Luxor, Zipporah blended in with the crowd. Zipporah slipped quietly into one of the fast-food restaurants. She’d made sure it was one of the restaurants almost two blocks away from the Luxor and around a corner off the strip.
    After deciding how much she could afford off the side-item menu, she paid and left the counter. She’d spied a worker clearing the