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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?"
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You remind me of Moses. Every time you open your mouth, the bull rushes.
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