“The Bad, The Beautiful, The Damned” – What Happens When You Hit the Max?

It’s a summertime weekend at the Lakewood Hotel in the suburbs of Milwaukee.

It’s summertime, but the sun’s not up.

It gets pretty hot.

The air conditioner on the second floor of the hotel is on.

The windows are tinted and the air conditioners are working.

But it’s not too hot.

I’m sitting in the lounge area of the Lakeworx.

I look around.

There’s no one else in the room, and there’s no TV.

It feels like a big, empty space.

I get out my laptop, which is the only thing I have, and I look at the room around me.

The only thing left is the laptop.

It has a webcam.

It seems like the only way to communicate with me is through the webcam.

And then I notice the laptop’s battery is low.

The battery is just not enough to charge the laptop for long.

I start checking my phone.

It looks like I have about 10 minutes until the hotel closes at 6 p.m.

I call the hotel.

The hotel manager is sitting at a conference table with a phone.

He’s got a stack of phone chargers on the table, which he is taking out and putting away in his desk.

It just doesn’t seem like he has time to do this.

The phone rings.

It sounds like a phone call.

I know who it is.

It comes from the manager.

“What’s wrong?”

I say.

“The laptop’s running low.

Are you there?”

The manager says, “I’m sorry.

We don’t have time to talk right now.”

I’m trying to think of some way to tell him that I’m not going to be able to talk to him right now, and so I say, “OK, I’ll try this: I’ll call you later.”

The manager looks at me, but then he looks at the phone and says, You’ve been called.

It goes to voicemail, so I’m on my way to the hotel and call the manager again.

I try again, this time to the phone.

I have a voicemail.

I ask him, “Is it over?

Can I talk to you?”

I know he’s going to say, No, it’s still over.

I want to know what’s going on, so when he says he’s sorry, I say to myself, I know it’s over, but I just have to know if I can still talk to the manager about this problem.

The manager gets on the phone again.

“We’ve tried to call you over,” he says.

“You don’t want to talk.

It’ll be a long conversation.

Let’s talk later.”

I ask again.

The same thing.

I say I’m sorry and hang up.

I hang up again.

But I’m having a good time, I’m enjoying myself, and then I get a text from the hotel manager.

He says, The battery’s low, so you can’t talk.

I can’t speak to him.

The next day, I call him back.

“I can’t make it,” he tells me.

“It’s late.”

I get on the line again.

It is late.

He can’t call me.

So I call back.

It turns out that I had the same problem.

I had a phone battery charge problem.

“No, I can get in touch with you right now,” he said.

I was kind of hoping that the problem would go away, but he still didn’t call.

“Can you talk to me?”

I said.

“OK.

I’ll talk later,” he told me.

I hung up.

But he was still hanging up.

“That’s fine,” I said, “because I don’t really need you to hang up on me right now.

You know, I don, I want the conversation to be over.

You can hang up, I promise.”

I hung it up.

The problem didn’t go away.

It got worse the next day.

I called the hotel again.

This time, the manager is there.

He said, The hotel is closing at 6, so let me call you back in 15 minutes.

“Well, it’ll be late.”

“Well,” I replied, “what are you going to talk about?”

“You’re not going in to a room and just having a conversation with me.”

“I have to talk,” I told him.

“Why not?”

“Because you have a problem.”

I started crying.

“Are you crazy?” he asked.

“Is that it?

Are you crazy that you think I’m a problem to solve?”

“No,” I sobbed, “not at all.

I mean, I do have a couple of problems.

I’ve got my asthma, which I’m getting better with, and my diabetes, which