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The woman ahead of me at the reception desk is wearing a massive, full-length, fur coat, a big mistake, since she’s about five feet tall. She looks like a baby bear, if baby bears wore white leather boots. She’s been arguing with the poor little Ledgerwood desk clerk for at least ten minutes. He’s told her a million times the Badminton Room isn’t available, but she must have the IQ of a pigeon, because she keeps asking.

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