Make a note. Folding towels dries your hands out. Next time you're a pool boy, make sure to bring extra hand lotion. Maybe lilac scented. Sitting in a shack for my 15-minute break. For the time being, I've been assigned to fold towels with Paula, a
Canadian traveler who apparently is against the concept of deodorant. She is, however, very open with her dietary restrictions. Almonds make her gassy. Must stop packing almonds.
Finished prepping the Blooms. Tools in towel, ready to hand off. Everything Steven Bloom needs. I set up the pins, he knocks them down. With perfect form. Like a bowling god. Mrs. Bloom has made contact. Off to approach her, will write later.
Got to rough up a prisoner in Turks and Caicos. He was terrified. Maybe you would dust him up. Maybe you would snap his neck. You're unpredictable. Like a wild animal. Maybe not a giant animal, but definitely a violent one. Like a raccoon caught rummaging through trash.
In Caracas now, Mrs. Bloom's driving. She smells nice. Like a third wheel, but nice. I think she saw me write that. Must turn body more when writing. Can't believe
I got paired with her. Should've stayed on the island with Steven Bloom where they could really utilize my skills. Especially my friend skills. I'm a confidante. He's starting to notice.
Strike what I wrote before. Mrs. Bloom threw me right into the action. The fire. The cauldron. Well, maybe something less medieval. Could potentially be wrong about her. At the Seidel apartment, while I was prepping comm from the car, she says "Let's go." Just like that. Let's go. Next thing I know, I'm shooting at Bruce Seidel and running him over with a car. Hopefully she didn't notice the voice-cracking or the forehead sweat. She even said nice job. Haven't heard that since the fourth grade science fair. God, I hope she tells Steven.