It wasn’t too long before Jesse and Redman arrived at another receptionist’s desk, although this one had a bit of a medical vibe to it – if Redman was remembering hospital reception desks correctly. The desk was somewhat circular, with the reception area right in the middle of four corridors, reminding Redman of a hospital ward.
“We’re here to see the Director,” said Jesse, speaking to the bald man behind the desk. “I’m told we can find him in the Bentleigh sector.”
The receptionist tsked and shook his head. “I’m afraid you just missed him. He’s got an appointment with the buyer’s agents next, so I’d recommend heading through the nearest other sector for conveyancing. Carnegie, I think it is. Do you have clearance to get into the advocates’ offices?”
“Don’t worry, I can get in. Thanks for your help.” Jesse slapped Redman on the shoulder and started toward the left corridor.
“Hey, that’s the sector for conveyancing near Mentone,” said the receptionist. “You want to go this way.”
Jesse waved a dismissive hand. “I know what I’m doing. Again, thanks for your help, though!”
Redman stood there slightly confused, eventually jogging after the confident young man. “Why aren’t we going the way he said,” Redman asked when he eventually caught up. “Do you really want to spend more time near these conveyancing lawyers?”
“This is a shortcut,” Jesse said wryly. “We’ll be there in absolutely no time. If real life were a book, we’d be there on the next page, if that makes sense.”
“Okay, let me put it this way: if our life were part of a strange novel comprised of scenes roughly 350 words long, we’d be reaching the buyer’s advocate section at the start of the next scene.”
Redman furrowed his brow. “I guess that makes sense, but why would somebody write a novel with such short scenes? And why would part of it include stuff about us walking through all these conveyancing offices?”
Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know, it was just a random idea to get the point across. I doubt anybody would be weird enough to actually do that.”