She was looking at the copy of the Post that was lying open on the desk in front of her. After about a few seconds of looking down at the paper, chewing on gum, she pushed a button on the phone and said, ‘Brookdale, hold on,’ and then started looking at the paper again, turning to the horoscopes. After several more seconds she looked at the computer monitor and tapped a few keys on the keyboard, then said into the phone, ‘Brookdale, hold on,’ and started reading the newspaper again. Saiquan said, ‘Can’t you just tell me where Desmond—’ ‘Wait,’ the girl said. She looked up more shit on the computer, read more horoscopes, and said ‘Brookdale, hold on,’ into the phone a few more times. Then, finally, she said to Saiquan, ‘What you want?’ ‘I wanna know where Desmond Johnson’s room’s at,’ Saiquan said. ‘He a patient?’ The girl couldn’t give a shit. ‘Yeah.’ ‘How you spell the last name?’ ‘Johnson.
