Down these mean streets a man must go...Along the way I picked up my nephew Brian’s baseball bat from the kitchen. It was only aluminum but it felt comforting in my hand. I held it like a club. Outside the suite, added on by the previous owners for the wife’s parents, I paused. My stomach was one big mass of knots and my heart was pounding in my ears from the adrenaline rush. I wiped sweaty palms on my khaki slacks. Strangely, from this close up the noise in the suite sounded like water running in the bathroom. Should I knock first and give the traditional “Who’s there?” or should I barge right in, bat at the ready? WWMD - What Would Max Do? Opting for the element of surprise, I tightened my grip on the bat with my right hand and pushed in the doorknob with my left. And I walked in. The empty bedroom was large and bright, with sun pouring in from a window overlooking a spectacular view of the Ohio River.
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