”The show’s host gasped, his eyes widening and his nostrils flaring. “Our audience won’t be impacted, will they? What are you planning to do?”Eric shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ll consider it while you take your break. I don’t intend to fight, so your audience should feel free to tag along. After all, it’s better if there are independent accounts of what’s about to occur.”The host was at a loss for words. His eyes flickered from his stage manager to his producer, searching for a suitable response. The televisions screens switched to a commercial about deodorant sprays.Eric allowed curious audience members and camera crews to precede him as he exited the building. He realized, without being warned, that every exit was covered. There was no skirting away and avoiding a confrontation this time.“What’s outside?” the nervous host asked. Despite his fear, he couldn’t resist something this monumental.Before he could respond, a member of the audience rushed up. “There’s a whole NYPD Swat team. I grinned back at her. ‘Me? No. I live here… Honest.’ I took to holding the door, letting her enter first. She smiled as she started climbing the stairs in front of me, turning back and giving me, ‘Yea. Sure. That’s what they all say.’ I protested my innocence and carried on up the stairs, delighting in the look of her long smooth legs ahead of me. She opened the door on the first floor—my floor—and turned towards my door as she fumbled for her key. I stood at her shoulder as she tried to put her key in my door. She laughed, ‘You really are following me.’ ‘Actually,’ I replied. ‘This is my room. Perhaps you’re following me.’ She looked at me quizzically, and turned the key. Of course it didn’t work, it was my room. But only when the key didn’t work did she start to realize her mistake. ‘May I?’ I asked as I brandished my key. She stepped back, ‘Be my guest.’ She said and laughed out loud as she saw my key turn in my lock. ‘So. Who is following who?’ ‘Well, I was in front of you, so I.
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