Ed was inching through the packed P.O. parking lot when he saw it—an older woman getting into her car in the first space. “A-hah!” Ed put on his blinker and glared protectively at other cruising cars searching for open spots.
“Come on lady. What are you doing? Your makeup? Nails? Napping? Move it!” he groused. Finally, she oozed her Cadillac out in fits and starts. Ed gunned into the coveted, prime space. Two steps from his car he saw where he was and realized he needed to go to the Dog House—way on the far side of town.
