By Tony Russell|
I took Kevin to the DMV yesterday to get his learners permit. I’d planned on sleeping in, but Patty roused us at 7. “It could take most of the morning,” she said, “and you’ll never get the grass cut if you sleep in.” She seemed to believe that was a negative.
We got there early, before the doors opened, but two dozen people were already ahead of us. We slowly worked our way toward the front of the line, and were almost there by 10 am. I’d read the sports section of the paper twice, and Kevin stayed busy texting on his phone. But then things took an odd turn.
The lady in front of us had been dragging a box full of files behind her as she moved along, although I couldn’t see a strap or rope attached to it. When she finished at the counter and started to walk away, I yelled after her, “Ma’am, you’ve forgotten your files!”
She turned and looked at me oddly, then glanced at the box. “You’re mistaken,” she said. “That’s not mine.” And she left.
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