Dave nods. “Yeah, they are.”
That sets me snickering again. He stands and claps me on the back. “We’re halfway through the tour now, folks. Don’t forget to stop by the gift shop on your way out and pick up a souvenir to commemorate your visit. If nothing else, let the girl behind the register validate your parking.”
I laugh at his goofiness. “My car’s at the mall.”
“No problem,” he says. “The shuttle bus runs every half hour. If you want to see the rest of the place…?”
“Sure, I’d love to.”
Off to the right is a tiny closet which houses an artificial Christmas tree, a vacuum cleaner, and not much else. Beside that is a small bathroom. “Have to keep the door open a crack or I forget which is which,” Dave says. He leans in to click on the light, showing me white tiles and a stainless steel sink. “Don’t want to piss in the Christmas tree in the middle of the night.”
“Why isn’t the tree up?” I want to know.
“It is,” Dave argues. “I never take it down. It’s easier that way.”