Don't call me yours, Mister
she raises the Tupperware to her eyelevel.
She looks between the Tupperware and Samantha.
She gulps, fearing she won't let her in.
"Can I see a document, please?"
"Sure," Samantha hands his driver's license to her. She takes a look at it and types on her keyboard.
"Smile for the camera, please," she says, pointing at the small device in front of Samantha.
"Uh, what is this for?"
"Just for security record, sir," she glances at her.
Samatha looks at the camera, not sure what face to pull. The receptionist hands her document back, along with a magnetic card for him to use to cross the sections.
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