One Door Down
“You want the office one door down,” the woman in the office said. “You can get your parking sticker there at 8:45.”
That was more than an hour away.
“Can I just come back some time during the day?”
“Oh no,” they’ll only be there until five to nine.
The parking sticker people were only going to be there for ten minutes.
Miss Lucy
I returned about an hour later. It was 8:50. I had five minutes to spare — almost too late. The parking sticker lady was zipping her bag shut and beginning to leave the office.
I told her who I was. How I needed a parking pass. I introduced myself.
“I’m David,” I said, holding out my hand.
I don’t think she expected this, because she laughed.
“I’m Miss Lucy!” she said as we shook hands, and she handed me a form.
I filled most of it out but said, “I don’t know my plate number, do you need that?”
“Yes,” she said, “I need that.”
But she cut the form in half, put her half in her bag and handed me the other half, smiling broadly.
“You just write your plate number there when you get to your car. And make sure to tape it to your windshield.”
Then she zipped shut her bag and left. Clearly she was giving me a break.
“Thank you, Miss Lucy,” I said before she had left the room.
She laughed.