Host: A Fictional Narrative

On Monday 6/29/2015 Sgt. Alexander and I was dispatched to the Hostess House located at 6741 Highway 70 in reference to 2 subject, Mr. Burnette and Mr. Jacobs that were renting room 251 and had outstanding warrants.

Traits: 1) He was shy and was not comfortable around people he didn’t know. 2) He was intelligent

My workplace host was Gerald Kuckleman, he is the county attorney. I shadowed him on April 29th, 2017, at the Atchison courthouse. I was with him from 8-12. The things he had to take care of were things like going over court cases and giving legal advice to the judge. That's not the only thing he did, he also has other important roles he takes care of as well. It is important for him to be aware of all the laws and take them into consideration when he's going over there cases. He also looks into people's previous criminal records to help decide punishments, and see if they were productive citizens to the society.

Arising from her perch, she held out her hand for her date to grace with his lips. There was a slight pause as she did, her brow quirking up expectantly as she held his gaze. It wasn’t a difficult thing to do, since there was something in his eyes that reminded her of his brother. However, in that same breadth, she found herself glancing away -- the memories of the masquerade too fresh, too soon. “Everett,” she greeted, a playful smile ghosting across her lips as she pointedly glanced at her outstretched hand. “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice. I wish I could have found a more convenient time for us both -- but, in light of recent events, such an endeavor seems more or less

It’s official. I am Screwed. Anna periodically handed Norman her cell phone whenever too many girls was gaining his attention. It wasn’t the ones who tried to speak with him in passing or with as little attention to themselves and what they were doing. What had caused Anna to use her speed dial button on turbo were the ones who openly, proudly, and loudly wanted to get Normans attention and or an agreement to out out on a date, as friends of course. No one wanted to be responsible for him becoming happily single. Norman no longer batted an eye when Anna passed him her cell phone.

He was being set up. Like an iceberg fracturing from a glacier, his perfect and smooth running day fell with a spectacular splash. This man was packing heat. A standard police issue handgun. Undoubtedly, the authorities were raiding the place as Jay spoke. They would soon find the concealed moonshine. Weighing up his options, Jay vaulted over the countertop only to meet the beat cop’s left hook connecting with his face. Acute pain registered and intensely dissipated. Darkness filtered through his heavy eyelids before settling in his subconscious.

Mac left before the Sheriff or anyone else got to the center as he wanted to see how passable the trail was and if he could take the any vehicles up the hill. It was the smallest vehicle they had and it might make it. In several places, the trail wasn’t wide enough to take the quad so he gave up the quad and walked up. The distance to the site Jackie described wasn’t far.

It was another busy Friday night at the Slow Hand Saloon, New York City’s hottest country bar. Penelope McKay had been overwhelmed when she had seen the crowd lined up around the corner waiting to get in. She was thankful Cheyenne was helping her tonight, she would not be able to keep up without the help. It seemed each weekend the crowds grew as did the lines waiting to get in, this was going to be a long night. Penelope’s white cowboy boots clunked across the hardwood floor, she had heads turning as she walked back to the bar. The tassels on her white vest swayed with each step and her daisy dukes hugged her hips, showing off lean, tanned legs. Her long blonde hair was perfectly curled, cascading down her back. Penny took her place behind the bar, checked to see if anyone needed a drink and got ready for her shift.

"Why did Mildred stay at your house? as I recall you give her the creeps" She says.

Even as she rummaged again through the work-ups, there wasn’t any clear evidence Rosie could find that gave her a thumbnail of hope. She kept running into dead ends and in just twenty minutes, she had interviews scheduled with Hector and Barry Langdon’s son. On a better day, they’d have a choice; either eat from her hand, or be sent inside a jungle to a hungry pride of lions. But today, all she could do was stare at a photo of Frank Daggott and wonder how he had gotten this far. How could he not even have been spotted? His picture not only revealed his large size, but she honed in on his right hand, which looked like it could easily encircle a grown man’s neck. Rosie was confident that Daggott was that man that strangled and murdered Jouka Taekalla. What puzzled her was that someone like Dyanna Montarro could actually fall for the two-bit part-time loan shark muscle. Rosie understood the man had certain aura of power; he put four NYPD officers in the hospital. But a man without brains and integrity was no more attractive than a muddy-filled pond inside the Serengeti.

My workplace host was Nancy Hale, she is a school principal. I job shadowed her on April 27th, 2018, at Arrowhead Middle School. I was there from 7am to 4pm. Her responsibilities are meeting with parents and students about grades and behavior, managing people and data, supervising instructors, and overall, having complete responsibility of the school and its performance. Being the principal is a lot of work because she is always making weighty decisions and lots of responsibility falls on her shoulders. Days she is extra busy she does not have time for lunch. Being busy is just part of the job.

To add to his out-of-fashion and out-of-date sense of “style” the jacket has a hole the size of a fist coming down the sleeve. During the summer, he wears it around his waist. It gives the image that he’s holding on to it for life since it’s one of his only possessions, and now days you’re measured as a person by what you possess. One of his other “precious” items is a cardboard box in which he sleeps. It looks very much like him-- old, worn, and dirty. The last of his possessions is a bottle of glue that he sniffs to get high. He looks around pretending to care if people stare, but even if there’s people he goes ahead with his glue sniffing ritual.

My workplace host was Stacey Smith and she is a florist. I job shadowed her on April 29th, 2016. It was at Always Blooming which is her shop. I was there from 9a.m to 4p.m. Her responsibilities are taking orders for customers, making the order like a bouquet, and taking care of finances. She has workers who also help with like delivery and making items for the customers. Having her own business is a lot of work because she has to worry about how to save money and make customers happy. When you are working you never really have a break because you have to answer calls and do things for people. It is important to be ready for anything, there is always something to do.

She thought about the ways she would be pleasing him tonight as she dressed with seduction in mind. She wore one of the new dresses she’d brought from home. She had purchased a couple of cute dresses from a tiny boutique on Melrose Avenue in Beverly Hills. She chose the short black cashmere sweater dress with the scoop neckline. She didn’t know if she would actually be given a chance or a reason to wear them, but she’d thrown the dresses in the suitcase anyway. She sprayed a small amount of her favorite fragrance, Eternity; she loved the mood it put her in. Instead of her usual ponytail, she left her hair down long and loose with the soft curls hitting just above her waist. She wore a pair of black ballet flats to make her walk to easier.

Dr. Xing pulled the door of the 20th Avenue 86th Street Starbucks open. The warm scent of freshly brewed coffee hit her, warming her from the brisk New York City fall. The two stools located in the left corner, right in front of the window, decorated with reusable leaf stickers are always the first seats she noticed. Her first kiss, at precisely 10:58 p.m. on January 13th. What she had felt was just skin, nothing particularly special. Maybe it was the person it was with – Austin Cheng. He should be coming to the high school reunion tonight at The 21 Club, possibly with the same chapped, flaky lips she had kissed, and not to mention his tip toed walk, the one where he would tip toe after each step he took to make up for his 5’7” stature. What did he want to be? Hara Xing remembered him nearly crying when he thought he had no future ahead of him and nothing to contribute to help his hardworking mother pay for merely groceries.