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I stepped inside and shut the door.With a sigh, I set the bag on the lone bed. The room had a small dresserwith a television on top, a small nightstand on the left side of thebed, and a small desk next to the window. I turned the television on,and some action movie started playing. Perfect for background noise.I opened my suitcase. My cosplay outfit was sealed in a bag, foldedmeticulously. The matching shoes and beret were also sealed in separatebags. I pulled the bagged outfit out of the suitcase and hung it in thecloset. The beret's bag slipped onto the hanger's hook, while the shoeswere fine sitting on the ground. Looking at the clothing reminded me ofwhat I was going to do tomorrow. Performance anxiety started building inmy gut.To distract myself from the growing discomfort, I looked at the rest ofthe suitcase's contents. Several sets of clothing, both male and female,were folded neatly in the main compartment, and extra pairs ofcompression shorts, socks, and underwear were. ” I wasn’t sure whether the shakiness was caused by her recent ugly experience - or what had just passed between us. I said, “Can I get you a drink?” Nothing like a little alcohol to calm the nerves. “What are you drinking?”She said rather off-handedly, “gin and tonic” and continued to stare into my eyes. Her concentration was unnerving. It was like she was scanning my soul. I said, “I’ll be right back” and rushed a little too hastily up to the bar. I wanted to get away from her for a second just to screw my head back on.I returned with her G&T and an English IPA for myself. She downed hers in one gulp; impressive. She looked at me and said, “Thank you for stepping in Officer. He scared me. But I don’t let anybody maul me like that.” And she looked down at her incredible girls.I said, “First I’m not a cop. I have no more jurisdiction than you. The badge is for a federal agent. I am with the Army at Fort Meade.” I really would have thought she could tell who I worked for by the high.
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