Sometimes I have to wait longer for your doorman to give me the key to your apartment than it takes me to walk your dog. I need a key to your apartment. Please. Time is money. I cannot afford to wait. Reginald
I’ve never met Reginald, itself a source of worry. Suddenly Bob has a new man in his life and I don’t know him. I imagine them frolicking in the park, playing ball, eating junk food and playing poker so by the time I drag my tired ass into the house at night, Bob has already been sated for the day and can barely lift his head in acknowledgment.
Of course that doesn’t happen. I walk in the front door and I’m met with the moans and groans of love; a big black face waiting to be scrunched and kissed and told he is the best guy in the whole wide world. We scurry to the elevator and invariably he chooses the right one that will arrive first, using some secret dog power of sniffing the three doors and deciding which elevator car is rushing to the eleventh floor.
I wrote Reginald back and assured him I would speak with the building management to expedite his entry into my apartment. I thanked him for taking such good care of Bob and wished him a good day. When I kissed Bob good-bye today, I told him to have fun with Reginald but not too much fun. I promised to be home by a reasonable hour tonight so we could watch Big Brother 4 together. He’s really rooting for Jun.