After spending 3-1/2 hours enduring the long lines, surly
clerks and insane regulations at the department of motor
vehicles, I stopped at a toy store to pick up a gift for my
son.
I brought my selection — a baseball bat — to the cash
register. “Cash or charge?” the clerk asked.
“Cash,” I snapped. Then apologizing for my rudeness, I
explained, “I’ve spent the afternoon at the motor-vehicle
bureau.”
“Shall I giftwrap the bat?” the clerk asked sweetly. “Or are
you going back there?”