Read Perfect Fifths for Free Online

Vegas are traveling together as a group consisting of the most devoted members of a fan club for a performer
    Jessica cannot think about if she's going to make it through the day.
    "Holding!" brays the woman behind Jessica to no one in particular and everyone in general. Never has a person so meticulously ("Holding ...") chronicled ("On hold
    ...") the ("Still on hold ...") drama ("Still holding ...") of ("Can ya believe I'm still on hold?") being ("I can't believe I'm still on hold ...") on ("Finally! A live person! What?
    You have to put me back on hold?") hold. Jessica finally gives in to her curiosity and turns around to find Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    a woman a few inches shorter than she is, but much wider,
    with a formidable bosom. Definitely middle-aged, if not chronologically, then sartorially, in her wrinkle-resistant zebra-trimmed-in-giraffe-print travel separates. But at least this woman in her grown-up Garanimals isn't a member of the fan club. Her existence is Jessica's only link to reality in an otherwise surreal situation, another witness that all this is, in fact, actually happening.
    That is, unless Jessica is making her up, too.
    "I'm holding," Garanimals explains, gesturing with her cell phone.
    "I had no idea," Jessica deadpans before facing forward again.
    Garanimals pokes her in the shoulder blade. "You got a better shot of solving your problem on the phone."
    "Really?"
    "The phone number's on your boarding pass." Garanimals holds up a finger, listens for a moment. "Ooh!
    I think I've got somebody," she says before frowning. "Nope.
    Still holding." A sigh. "I have a friend who works for the airline. She says the phone is the faster, better way to go. Though she's not such a good friend that she can get me the hell out of coach. The only Coach that makes me happy is a five-hundred-dollar purse, ya know what I'm saying?"
    Jessica smiles weakly. 'Then why do you bother with the line?"
    Garanimals tips her head back and cackles, revealing silver fillings in her back molars. "I'm not taking any chances. 'Cause the one time I missed my connection and I didn't get on this line, I was told that I could only solve my customer service problem if I got on this line.
    Catch-22, ya know what I'm saying?"
    "Oh," Jessica replies, unzipping the bag that holds her phone.
    The fan club president and VP (designated as such by their personalized baseball caps) are arguing with the Clear Sky customer service representatives at the desk.
    "This is not our problem! This is your problem! And it's gonna be an ever-bigger problem for you if you can't get all twenty of us there before the curtain goes up tonight!"
    Meanwhile, the eighteen members without titles have cell phones pressed to their ears, hoping to talk to someone, anyone, who can get them on the next flight to
    Vegas. Few speak; most commiserate with huffs and upthrown hands as they endure the interminable hold that has been put on them by the Clear Sky automated
    customer service system. They are stuck in both virtual and real-life standstills.
    Jessica fumbles around inside her bag, thinking, as she always does when she's looking for something inside this bag—usually her cell phone, a stick of gum, or a pen—that there are too many pockets within pockets. Multiple options has always been a problem for Jessica, in luggage and in life. She imagines that this
    pockets-within-pockets design is meant to make things more convenient for the traveler, as it's possible to designate a specific pocket for each and every item one could possibly need on the go. But Jessica has never had the inclination to devise such an organizational system, though it would hardly take that much time to assign Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    the slanty side pocket on the left FOR GUM ONLY, or those skinny tubular pockets FOR PENS
    ONLY, especially in the case of the latter, when it's obvious