I prize the service and attention of being a frequent flyer, Amex Platinum, Hertz Gold, etc., just like George Clooney and since seeing the film, I've...harbored an Anna Kendrick fantasy. Too bad I don't know Anna which is fine, since I don't look much like George. A few years back I was in Charlotte. The Crown Plaza. I'd not been there before in the times I'd been to Charlotte but had an excellent experience in Miami so I wanted to try another to see if their customer service was on a par with. She was a tad bit better on the phone than face to face, and with me a great deal more than with anyone else. We had worked together since my hiring. She had five months seniority on me, and in those years that we worked on the same team, I had not seen her speak more than two sentences on non-work related topics to anyone else in one sitting. Type, yes. Speak, no.Her father had ‘rustled up’ a few clients for her. More than she could handle. When I joked about her being the boss, she. I don’t know how we managed to stay apart as the day went on. I felt like my body was a compass needle stroked with iron, constantly aligned to wherever she was in the house. The winding, unspoken tension between us was delicious. And, of course, there was work to do.But at the end of the day, after we’d shared the pizza I’d fired in the house’s outdoor oven, there had been only the question of how we entered the night.“Movie?” she asked quietly.I swallowed. “Yes.”Her smile was like the dawning. I should have been beet red and running away, but instead I was chatting about poles with a guy twice my age who paid people to fuck on camera. And to think just this morning I was refilling decaf for hipsters.I sat too. As we chatted we reassessed our initial impressions. Alvie was no dummy, and I think he was so used to bimbos that he was surprised I wasn't a dummy either. He'd graduated with majors in math and literature, traveled Europe by rail and bike, and had married and divorced in the.