A young man in a bad suit held a cardboard sign with my name on it. He takes my bags and weaves me through the Hong Kong airport, to an exit with a row of shiny Benzes on the curb. He opens the door to one of them and motions for me to get in. I do. The young man puts my bags in the trunk. The driver appears shortly, greeting me by handing me a bottle of mineral water. I take it.
He drives fast and after a very impressive system of suspension bridges and tunnels, I am delivered to my new doorstep. A serviced apartment by the water. I have only one thought as I check-in: God I hope The Firm got me a two bedroom with a view of the water. Please God. The man at the front desk walks me through the housekeeping rules. The gym is on the fourth floor. He hands me my keys. I pocket them.
Bellhop was on a break so I had to take my luggage up. Each maleta weighed 30 kilos. I paid $35 in fees to get them here. I push and heave and drag. Finally I get to my room at the end of the hall. 801.
I swing the door open. Two bedrooms.
I leave my bags at the door and look out the window. Water.
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