"I'm checking out," he states promptly.
I take the man's keys and ask the routine "Did you enjoy your stay?"
He is silent for a brisk moment. He responds with a jeer-draped and drawn out "Sure," eyes on the verge of rolling.
An older gentleman walks through the lobby with the luggage cart. We greet each other. He walks out the doors with the cart, and then returns a few minutes later.
"What's your favorite color?" he asks me.
I pause. "Yellow," I respond, only because I don't want to explain my love of diluted and rather specific color preferences; olive green, mustard yellow, antique pink, even coral.
"Yellow," he repeats. "That's not very common." He continues through the lobby. "I'll get you a piece."
I pause again. "What?"
He stops. "I'm a glass maker. Will you be here tomorrow?"
"Yes," I respond with question in my voice.
"Okay, I will bring you a piece."