Jake sighed as he sneaked across the parking lot of Ambassador Inn toolbox in hand. Another day another dollar with a bizarre maintenance call. Ever since the pandemic things had gotten weird around here.
As he turned the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. A lanky guy with a bald head in a wrinkled t-shirt was trying to climb to the second floor by stepping on stack of five gallons plastic buckets his fingers barely gripping the edge of a second-floor balcony.
"Hey, buddy!" Jake called out. "What in the world are you doing?"
The man's head whipped around nearly making him fall. "I gotta see if Brandi's in there with that loser from Facebook!"
Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let me guess. Y’all had a fight and she dumped you?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
Before Jake could answer the stacks of buckets began to wobbled. The man lunged forward managing to grab the balcony railing but losing his footing. Now he dangled legs flailing from the second floor.
"Help! Oh God, help!" the man yelled out.
Jake pulled out his phone, torn between calling the cops or posting this on social media. Just another day at Ambassador Inn in 2024.
"Hang tight, Romeo," Jake replied, dialing 911. "If your this desperate to climb up balconies you should’ve brought some flowers."