What a concierge to Hell does for you.
Its not what you think it is...
My Name is Syndra St. Claire. I’m sorry, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but I’ve been asked to tell you this and I’m not sure if it’s going to make your life better or worse because as far as I know it’s unprecedented. What would any of us do if we knew the exact date of our death? What would I have done if I had known? I don’t know. I really don’t. It’s just not usually an option.
I guess what I have is both good news and bad news so I could let you choose which you’d like to hear first but I already know the answer you’d give. The bad news first then the good news. Right? It’s like everyone wants the bad first then the good. Vegetables first then dessert. Work a job then get paid. Date someone then get married. Wait, that one’s backwards I think.
So just to mix things up a bit I’ll give you the good news first. You’re going to get to meet me soon. Trust me it’s good news. Without me, very soon, you’d be swimming in a sea of fear, anger, and massive frustration. To get an idea of how much frustration I’m talking about imagine this scenario. Close your eyes;
Your walking through customs alone trying to re-enter the US after a trip to Afghanistan. You picked up on your trip not just a Mexi-tan from the blazing sun which did help you blend with the locals, but also, somehow, a pack of batteries with curly wires and a detonator. It was slipped into your carry-on while you were taking a whiz and relieving yourself of the curried ‘chicken’ you’d eaten for breakfast. Imagine now walking beside the X-Ray machine with your shoes off, as your bag passes through the scanner when the red lights and siren go off on the machine next to you.
Remember when I mentioned frustration? This is just a taste of what you’d experience without me. With customs officers tackling and cuffing you and your face squeeking on the polished and cold linoleum floor, it’d be the bend over and cough routine for you without the Vaseline, right? Well my role in all of this, for you, would be to be the one who rushes in before your belt even has to come off. Who somehow gets the attention of the lead officer and explains everything to him. He’d laugh at my jokes while I touch his arm. He’d look at his clipboard, laugh again and then get his keys from his cluttered desk which backed up to a dirty white concrete wall. His nearly empty coffee cup would be heavily stained and sitting on the corner of his desk next to a pile of papers with brown rings on them. I’d then walk him over to you, give you a wink and while small talking with him watch him take your handcuffs off.
That’s how cool I’m going to be to you. In fact without me, things here, where you’re coming, would be a Hell of a lot worse than that.
Syndra
are you coming…?
Syndra St. Claire 