I stare at the front of the hotel, checking out its rustic old brick structure, and I have to wonder if I'm just playing myself here. There's so much ridiculous hope inside me that it feels like it's crushing the rest of my ego—a pretty big endeavor, for sure. I'm not the kind of guy who wants to fuck one chick on Monday and then three more by the end of the week. I mean, sure, that's all fun and whatnot, but I've got too much to work on, and I’m never quite satisfied until I perfect it. And let me tell you, it's not easy to perfect anything in a game like football. The driver catches my attention, pointing out the window. "Is this the young lady we’re waiting for?" he says to me, my eyes following his hand. And there she is, standing there with her arms pulled across her chest, vainly trying to cover up the nice amount of cleavage she’s showing off in the pretty green dress she's wearing. I take a deep breath.
