“Ma’am, your card was declined.”
He’s not speaking to ME, is he? No, he can’t be because I know I have money in my account.
I look up, and the clerk’s brown eyes were looking at me sympathetically, like I was a puppy whose owner didn’t give her a treat for rolling over. Like he had seen this way too many times.
“I can run it again,” he suggested.
I don’t think anyone could’ve stopped the fire of embarrassment that burned through me. For three seconds, the hotel floor collapsed below me and I fell, and there was no bottom and no end to the horror.