Go to Jeff’s house.

Jeff wins this round, you think to yourself. You pick up the bag and hop in your car. You drive slowly through the residential blocks to Jeff’s house. You follow directions on your phone. The closer you get, the further the streets are from one another. Eventually you reach Windsor Place. The houses seems like their each a mile apart. Eventually you pull up to an archway with a brass number “8” bolted above it. You drive through the open gate, slowly crawling up the driveway. You pull up to the garage by the side of the house, even though it’s far away from the door. You check your phone. It’s just past noon.

Jeff’s house is huge. You walk back down the driveway to get to his front door. Or, rather, doors; two enormous red double doors mark the front of Jeff’s house. You press the doorbell. The chimes are beautiful and melancholic.

The door opens and Jeff hops into the doorway. “What’s up man?!” he announces, slapping you on the shoulder.

“Hey Jeff, is uh... is Tina here?” you ask.

“Yeah, she’s just inside. She’s been bitching about that bag all day. You did bring it, right?”

Jeff holds his hand out, reaching towards the bag in your left hand. You’re somewhat disappointed that Tina is nowhere to be found. You feel like confronting Jeff, but don’t want to make a scene.