Bubbles: Stories of Sex, Scandal and Other Silliness by Kalen Laurel

Author:Kalen Laurel [Laurel, Kalen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Anthologies, Literature & Fiction, Collections & Anthologies
Amazon: B00EH7EGHK
Publisher: Paperwhite Press
Published: 2013-08-11T00:00:00+00:00

Bubbles

As any traveling businessman will tell you, the secret to mental stability is smart packing, and I’ve refined my own methods into a doctrine as dogmatic as any religion’s. Never carry what you can ship, replace liquid or gel items with powder or solid, and fit it all into the smallest daypack you can manage. These are the three commandments I’d consider chiseling into a tablet if I thought it would deliver my fellow humans from strife. Alas, I have neither the patience or charisma of an evangelist, so I usually keep my peace on all but one golden rule: eliminate everything you’ve failed to establish a need for during your last three trips.

A more secular label for this key component of my sanity is obsessive minimalism, and I’m completely aware it’s a far easier practice for men than women who are forced to pack all manner of accoutrement just to sustain life and meet the minimal standards of beauty that society imposes on them. The contents of my bag this particular trip are a testament to my Y chromosome—an extra shirt, socks and underwear in one compartment, a toothbrush, tooth powder, solid deodorant, comb, an electric razor inside a ziplock bag, and an iPad, charger and a few travel documents in a padded pouch. I use the conditioner supplied by the hotel as hair gel and take comfort in the knowledge that there’s pretty much always a Walmart a short drive away should I have other needs.

Oh...and a pair of swim trunks, a T-shirt and cheap flip flops—all of which serve as a constant reminder that I’m apt to ignore my own advice.

I set those last items on the bed next to my backpack (I’m careful to never put anything in a drawer or out of sight lest it be forgotten) and silently curse myself for allowing them passage despite the knowledge it’s been months since they’ve been used for their intended purpose. Which, I must confess, is not to facilitate a trip to the hotel pool for exercise laps, but rather for relaxing soaks in the hot tub that always seems like a great idea at the beginning of a 15-hour day and less so at the tail end.

This day is no exception. I woke at 3:30AM to drive to the airport for the first flight out to a morning meeting in one city with enough day left to drive to a second city for another meeting before a mad dash to yet another airport for a flight to wherever I am now—Charlotte or Charleston, or something like that—for an early meeting tomorrow. It would feel so good to slip into the warm water and allow the stress and aches and pains to melt away, but sleep is an even more attractive proposition.

I kick my shoes off and lie back on the second bed with the television remote poised for attack and my brain ready to disengage when it occurs to me that my meeting in the morning

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