Waiting under cover would work unless the rain restarts near closing time. The bag handle is already weak, which makes wet weather more than a comfort issue. I want one dry corner left in the bag for the journey home.
I would like to leave knowing one real weakness, not only what the agent points out. The bedroom backs onto the common corridor shown in the listing photos. The bathroom cabinet is the first place I plan to look for hidden damp.
The only thing I definitely do not own is the specialist gear shown in one picture. I am comfortable being new; I just want to follow the group’s normal routine. Arriving alone is fine; making the whole group stop for me is what I'd like to avoid.
The building may open early, but the message does not say. A calm hotel lobby seems possible, although I'd ask before settling in. I am not looking for a famous cafe—just a chair with the bags in sight.
The stall looks excellent; the lack of labels is the only thing stopping me. I know the amount in pieces, not the usual weight. I can point to the produce. Still, that does not tell the seller how much I need.
The only clear part of the ticket is a six-digit job number. The ink has smudged exactly where the collection date should be. I'd rather ask one clear question than tell the whole repair story again.
