<div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Paul Raike</strong> (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=84632.msg3727041#msg3727041) - <strong>2nd Floor Elevators</strong> - <em>Waiting</em></div><br/>Paul heard the yell as he left the locker rooms. "That can't be good," he muttered, and glanced around. It sounded like someone had just spilled red wine onto a favorite white carpet, but there was no telling what had actually sparked the outburst. He walked carefully towards the hallway containing the rooms; a good thing, too, because as he rounded the corner the door of the far room popped open, and a man came flying out, looking for all the world like he'd just been caught<em>in flagrante delicto</em>with the devil's wife. Thankfully, this time he had the good grace to step out of the way, narrowly avoiding a collision as the man careened down the hall towards the elevator. "Um, good morning?" he said, not quite sure if he should be annoyed at the near collision or thankful for the near miss. He finally decided on neither, and hurried back to his room, hoping to avoid anyone else that might be waking up late.<br/><hr/>Fifteen minutes later he was dressed: white button-down, grey slacks with a black belt, and a sports coat; the formal look was muted by the lack of tie and black Converse sneakers. He took one last moment to make sure he looked presentable, then headed out, carefully working his way around the bike he'd managed to stuff just inside the door. At first he'd planned to simply lock the bike up outside again; however, the ominous clouds hanging over the city had made him nervous as he rode in, and the rumble of far off thunder as he had arrived had made the decision for him. If he ended up spending the night, he decided, he'd take the time to rearrange the room before actually sleeping. Perhaps he could put some hooks in the ceiling for it to hang from?<br/><br/>He pondered the logistics of storing his bike in the room as he waited for the elevator to return from the lobby.