Today I thought I'd go out into the world and get some things done. There was a sale on for oranges (4 lb. for $.99) at the market, I had a couple of things to mail off, and I had just found a hotel card in my computer bag.
Heading out, I stopped first at the hotel. I wasn't sure where I could find a post office open on Saturdays, and I imagined the the hotel workers might have an idea of this. Dropping off the card and chatting a bit with the employees, I found out pretty quickly that they had no idea where a post office was, let alone if it would be open.
Sitting down at the computer there, I was able to find the address of a post office in the area that would be open till early afternoon, so I grabbed the nearest writing utensil and started to jot down the street number on my wrist. One of the employees offered me a piece of paper, which I declined, as I had already finished up and was getting ready to leave. As I put down the permanent marker, stood up from the computer and turned around, I found myself face to face with a tall, well-built older man with skin black as the night. He looked me dead in the eyes and warned me "Missi, nex time, use a piece o' paper, will ya. 'cause if you keep o' writin' on yo self like that, you's a' gonna end up like me!"
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