“Are you the, uhm, witch who has placed the, er, the advertisement up in the clouds this morning?”
“Yes!
“I’d never done one before. Do you think it came out all right?” I asked picking up my coffee and books off of the low table in front of the couch. I began to move behind the counter, and he took a few more steps towards me as I moved away from both the door and the seating.
“It’s just that…” he looked at me then at his shoes, beautiful black boots of scrolled leather and pointy toes, then back up at me.
I shrugged a shoulder and raised an eyebrow.
“It’s just that what?”
“Well, madam witch,” he paused briefly as if he wanted my name. Then, as if he changed his mind, the rest of his words rushed out in a flood, “todoapublicworkinglikethatyouneedacitypermit. Do you have a copy of your permit nearby?”
My eyes had squinted trying to follow what he was saying than went wide as I shook my head and leaned back.
“How much for a permit?” I asked.
“Well, madam, the permit is 200 lukas, and the fine will be another 80 lukas.” By now the madam this and madam that had started to annoy me, and the amount of the cost of the permit distressed me.
Right away the cheap and frugal part of me went to battle with the obey-the-rules part of me. That conflict was quickly followed by the anti-authoritarian part of me jumping into the fray which woke up survival me, and I’m afraid I stood there scowling at him while this raging argument tumbled furniture and broke things in my mind.
“What if I took it down right now? Would I still owe anything? I didn’t know about needing a permit.” Find-the-loophole-me saunter into the situation carelessly throwing down the obvious easiest possible solution, while dodging the metaphorical plates and chairs the others were still slinging around in my mind. Find-the-loophole-me tried to come up with other exits against the background tussle while I blinked, somewhat fetchingly I thought, at the government man.
He came over to the counter where I had set down my coffee. I piled my books onto a shelf under the counter and straightened back up to see him pulling on his beard. There were crinkles around his eyes which seemed to dance merrily in his face, and he had a crooked bit of a smile which made me feel awfully strange in a nice way when he turned it my direction, like he was doing while I stood there fiddling with my coffee and waiting for his answer.
I smiled back at him. He shook his head and his smile dropped away, which was disappointing. He cleared his throat again and shook his head some more.
“I’m afraid not, there’s already been a complaint, and I’m afraid you’ll have to settle up with me or come down to the office.”
My eyes lit up and I smiled again leaning forward over the counter towards him, glancing swiftly left and right, and whispering loudly, “What happens if I go down to the office with you?”
He took a step back and cocked his head to one side. His eyes glanced at the ceiling, and he stroked his beard, and he said, “Uhm, honestly, this is my second week on the job since my training ended, and I have no idea. Hold on up while I find out.”
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