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 gift wrap the bat?” the clerk asked sweetly, “or are you going back there?”
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