Jerry Thompson - The Baggage Claim Building
"So...." Jerry said, resting his arms on the front desk of the baggage claim building, "if you could help me out by passing me my bags, that'd be great. I mean, really, it'd be great."
The receptionist, a middle-aged woman who had been ignoring Jerry as he sat patiently, turned her head up and looked at him, before turning away again and continuing to strike her fingers against her keyboard. Jerry tilted his head and puffed up his cheeks, obviously holding himself back from being exceptionally rude to the receptionist. His patience was rotting away, being chipped by every clack of her keyboard.
"So... can you help me?" He asked, gently.
"Of course I can and I am sure that it would be great for you if I did. But you haven't done the most important thing." She paused, "Ask for my help."
Jerry was tempted to mist her with Mountain Dew and leave, but he closed his eyes and counted to three, taking a deep breath before sternly asking "Would you please get my luggage?"
"Of course, dear." Standing up, the woman looked at him and asked, "What's your name?"
"Jerry Thompson. It's my first year," he answered, finally content. "Maybe you'd know my cousin Todd?"
The receptionist stood as still as stone, staring wide-eyed at him like he just spoiled her favorite soap opera. She dropped her jaw before mechanically saying, "In fact, I do know him. Unfortunately." She then stepped away and went into a room away from Jerry, coming back with a green bag and a large pair of briefcases, tagged with the owner's names and shoving it his way. "Take these and tell your cousin he doesn't need to come down here."
As Jerry picked up the bags and walked away, the receptionist dutifully returned to typing.
Todd Thompson - The Administration Office
Rolling through the crowd with an arrogant strut came Todd Thompson. A quick chat with the receptionist landed him an envelope containing his room number, roommate, and key. He ignored everyone around him and brushed his shoulders against several other guys before he found himself along the wall. He resisted the urge to pull out a cigarette and smoke inside the office. These days he was running through more cigarettes in an hour than he could carry, or at least would put in the effort to carry.
His fingers drummed against the letter as he looked up to see if anyone was watching him, to his disappointment, no one was. With a sullen lookk of displeasure, he drug his finger through the envelope and pretended to read the name of his assigned roommate. He shrugged his shoulders and stuffed it in his pocket, hoping to catch the eye of someone worth his time. With that, he walked outside and stood against the wall, posing with his arms crossed and trying to look tough.