[CONTENTID1] 1. [/CONTENTID1][CONTENTID2]START.[/CONTENTID2]

[CONTENTID3]

I scooted up on my elbows as I adjusted the binoculars properly. I sighed as I stared at the boring procession before me.

Of course sarcasm was all I relied on as my source of fun on jobs like these. The man through the windows was just sitting there―reading. Honestly if he wasn't basically sitting on a throne of gold he would probably be reading a book with leather binding.

He was sitting on a toilet seat. With pants on of course. Which would've been odd if he had not been hiding from company.

So I had been watching for awhile. Like 3 hours awhile. However, it was only long enough to watch a girl come in with three other people, who he seemed to not care nearly as much about, dressed in party clothes. He had offered them a drink while his roommate―really good-looking guy, soft hair, soft eyes, adorable smile―took care of the three other people. I wish I could say I knew what was going on, but I honestly didn't. The man blushed wildly at the main girl, while his friend struggled to fight off three hormone filled girls. After being pink for about two hours while the girl tried to converse, he excused himself to the bathroom where he started reading Lolita.

A really good book by the way. I mean, I wouldn't recommend it on a hotel toilet seat, but I guess it'd still be a good read. A bad copy however. His was all torn and ripped, not even the cover was salvaged. I rolled my eyes as he bent the book in two, reading it in a way that would ruin the spine forever. A tragic day for Vladimir Nabokov.

I thought this mission would be a waste―you know, no real go