“Good day to you sir, do you have an appointment with Sir Lawrence?” A distinguished Middle Eastern man with a prideful handlebar mustache curled at the ends wearing a white and black keffiyeh stands up from his desk in a hallway between two sets of doors.
“Lawrence of Arabia has an appointment with me,” the man leans over the desk biting his cigar impatiently as it gets closer and closer to the assistant’s mustache.
“Y-y-y-y-yes s-s-s-sir!” He sits down after feeling the heat of the cigar on his lips. The door to the left of the desk opens wide as Lawrence walks out with his arms out to greet the man.
“Hey! It’s been a while my old friend, do you still prefer to be called Mr. X?” He hugs the man and kisses his cheeks then leads him into the room with his arm around his shoulders.
