u s e y o u r h a n d s

The concierge sighed over the five-pound blocks of chocolate, the baskets of pears nestled in excelsior. She leaned back in her chair to check the door to the Aspen Room. Still in session, still quiet. She could see some VP gesturing with a laser pointer at a screen. On page 75, she circled a fancy assortment of Belgian truffles wrapped in a luxe silver paper. She thought about how the VP, in his dark gray suit, might pick over the truffles as he refilled his a.m. coffee, looking for a coconut one. Or maybe he�d take the whole box to his neighbors� dinner party. �Maybe some tangerines,� she thought, but then rethought, imagining the rotting box leaking onto a breakroom counter. She flipped through a few more pages, looking for a gift that would remind him of expense accounts protected by clever transaction descriptions. But nothing like that would be in their budget anyway, nevermind any catalog.