She waddles down to the desk and asks for shampoo (probably a first), toothpaste and brush (definitely a first), and lotion. (I can't help but picture it getting clogged in her open sores, probably stings, must have to use a q-tip or something to get it out)
She paid one hundred thirty-five dollars total for the room. Cash. More money than I could think of spending for anything. She thanks me with genuine gratitude and stale breath, and waddles back to the elevators. I go back to the office and adjust my tie.
One hundred thirty-five dollars.
Must be nice.