“Suite 3A” Zoraida murmured to herself as she walked up the long flight of stairs to the third floor. Her bright red stiletto heels making a distinctive clicking sound on the cement stairs as she climbed up to the third floor. Today, she had opted for tight black jeans and a red blouse instead of her normal working attire of a fitted black or grey pencil skirt and black shirt.
Excited to see her new offices, Zoraida had hurried out of the house earlier than normal – it was still barely after 8 am. In fact, the city was still fairly quiet as most people were not at work yet.
As she reached the third floor, Zoraida opened the heavy metal security door with a set of keys she had been given by the real estate agent. Instantly, before she could even turn on the lights, she was assaulted by the smell of somewhere that been closed up for years. It was a musty smell mixed with damp. Cringing inwardly at this, Zoraida turned on the lights, hesitant to what she might find. As dim light illuminated everything, she saw that it was as bad as she thought it might be when she first opened the door. The walls looked old, tired and in desperate need of new paint and the floors and windows were dirty.
Stunned by all of this, Zoraida didn’t know what to say or think. Glancing around her, she had the awful feeling that she had been had. The real estate agent had assured her that it was an older, well-kept property that only needed a few touches here and there, and there would be no problem renting it sight unseen. Obviously, this was not what she envisioned when Zoraida had signed the lease to this property.
And as she slowly walked around the empty offices, she realized that it was not even furnished … The contract had specified that it would be furnished. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spied an old antique desk off to one side of the room.
“You have got to be freakin’ kidding me! This is what they call furnished?!”Zoraida exclaimed rather loudly as she finally lost her patience, her voice echoing off the dirty beige walls, half dismayed at what she was seeing and the other half a growing mix of anger and disbelief.
“An old wobbly oak table and a half dead plant, nope, not dead, worse,” she exclaimed as she touched the offending plant on the desk and saw it was not even real.
Frustrated, Zoraida plopped her black leather handbag on the antique desk and started rummaging through it until she found her cell phone. As she pulled out her phone, she slowly realized that she had could not call anybody because she'd not hired an assistant yet… “What rotten luck…” she said to nobody in particular, feeling a bit defeated and thinking that the only good thing was that she had put an ad in the local newspaper for an assistant, although, that didn’t help her much at the moment, did it?
Excited to see her new offices, Zoraida had hurried out of the house earlier than normal – it was still barely after 8 am. In fact, the city was still fairly quiet as most people were not at work yet.
As she reached the third floor, Zoraida opened the heavy metal security door with a set of keys she had been given by the real estate agent. Instantly, before she could even turn on the lights, she was assaulted by the smell of somewhere that been closed up for years. It was a musty smell mixed with damp. Cringing inwardly at this, Zoraida turned on the lights, hesitant to what she might find. As dim light illuminated everything, she saw that it was as bad as she thought it might be when she first opened the door. The walls looked old, tired and in desperate need of new paint and the floors and windows were dirty.
Stunned by all of this, Zoraida didn’t know what to say or think. Glancing around her, she had the awful feeling that she had been had. The real estate agent had assured her that it was an older, well-kept property that only needed a few touches here and there, and there would be no problem renting it sight unseen. Obviously, this was not what she envisioned when Zoraida had signed the lease to this property.
And as she slowly walked around the empty offices, she realized that it was not even furnished … The contract had specified that it would be furnished. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spied an old antique desk off to one side of the room.
“You have got to be freakin’ kidding me! This is what they call furnished?!”Zoraida exclaimed rather loudly as she finally lost her patience, her voice echoing off the dirty beige walls, half dismayed at what she was seeing and the other half a growing mix of anger and disbelief.
“An old wobbly oak table and a half dead plant, nope, not dead, worse,” she exclaimed as she touched the offending plant on the desk and saw it was not even real.
Frustrated, Zoraida plopped her black leather handbag on the antique desk and started rummaging through it until she found her cell phone. As she pulled out her phone, she slowly realized that she had could not call anybody because she'd not hired an assistant yet… “What rotten luck…” she said to nobody in particular, feeling a bit defeated and thinking that the only good thing was that she had put an ad in the local newspaper for an assistant, although, that didn’t help her much at the moment, did it?
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