15,084 Words, and Gordon joins the story

I was inspired by the blogs yesterday, and today wrote a whole bunch of nothing. Week 2 is tricky!
Here is an excerpt from the story- Jackie walking through the lobby is about as much action as I could muster today, although the man he runs into at the end if Gordon. I knew he had to join the story sometimes, so I decided today was the day.

When he had finished his morning routine, he pulled the glass partition across, placing a sign on the glass in case anyone came by and asked any questions. The painted sign was made from a weathered piece of wood, and bore the image of a hand painted fish shooting upward as though leaping from the water alongside the words “Gone Fishin.’” Jackie had picked it up at an estate sale, along with a second sign reading “Kiss My Bass”. He figured they would come in handy someday, and boy, had he been right. The sign was sure to keep thirsty bar patrons from asking too many questions until he came back.

He worked his way through the crowd at the front desk, only half listening to the litany of complaints being directed at the flustered clerk. Brandon, Jackie believed his name was, or something equally forgettable. From what he could surmise, the substance of the complaints seemed to be about the quality of the public access wifi. One customer, who was far too handsome to not be a celebrity of some sort, pushed his long hair from his face in frustration as Brandon repeated that there was no secret VIP wifi access. Brandon needs to up his game, Jackie thought. He was a terrible liar. Some other hotel guests seemed to be suggesting that having a PhD qualified them for special treatment, and surely they could not be expected to perform academic work with limited access to Google, whose search engine was largely responsible for the greatest achievements of academia for the last decade. He noticed a dark haired man skulking awkwardly around the couches in the lounge area. He was wearing an away New Jersey Devils jersey with the name ‘Boreanaz’ lettered across the back. He paced, glaring angrily at the handsome VIP at the desk, who now that Jackie looked closer was wearing a home New Jersey Devils shirt, (or was it their third jersey?), the name ‘Kitsch’ spelled across the back.

Jackie cursed, wishing he had more time to observe the obvious malevolence that existed between the two fans. But he had places to go, and things to see. He was pleased to note that the hotel’s atmosphere was as chaotic as he could have wished for. A slight smile played across his lips in a way that most of the patrons of Jackie’s Place would have been surprised to see. Jackie was famously stoic and humourless. He was so distracted by the blistering energy passing between the two men, clearly in the midst of some sort of blood vendetta (Jackie’s absolute favourite!), that he didn’t notice one of the hotel guests slipping away from the edge of the crowd until he ran right into him.

Here is the description of Gordon:

The man was oddly dressed in a way that didn’t seem fitting for an academic conference or a hockey fan club meeting. He was dressed all in black, with… was that a cape? It was strange, but the full black ensemble actually paired nicely with his blonde, wavy locks, pale skin, and silver pentagram medallion. He had been clutching a set of loose papers in his hands, silver rings adorning nearly every finger, but the collision sent the papers flying in a way that was decidedly against Jackie’s intention of drawing no attention to himself. Jackie set about the business of helping to pick up the papers, noting that he understood only a handful of the words on the typed, double-spaced, APA formatted pages. He moved quickly and quietly, trying to remain invisible. He needn’t have worried. The hotel guests at the front desk had been only momentarily distracted from their task. Hell hath no fury as a conference attendee with wifi connectivity issues, am I right?