There were precisely three minutes and thirty-two seconds left on my parking meter when I realized I'd locked my keys in the car - on a day when the sky had decided to release what felt like the entirety of its accumulated rain since forever - and the parking officer looked exactly how one would expect a middle-aged man in a yellow jacket to look: skeptical.
The smell of stale bread wafted from the nearby café as the owner's cat watched me with an interest akin to a spectator at a tennis match - my futile efforts to coax a glimmer of pity from him only made it worse. I felt like I'd accidentally wandered into an absurd, poorly-written play written by someone who'd only just discovered the concept of characters.
The smell of stale bread wafted from the nearby café as the owner's cat watched me with an interest akin to a spectator at a tennis match - my futile efforts to coax a glimmer of pity from him only made it worse. I felt like I'd accidentally wandered into an absurd, poorly-written play written by someone who'd only just discovered the concept of characters.
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