March 7, 2012 § 3 Comments
I only had $12.73. I went back to the coordinator’s table and offered her that much. She stood up abruptly, walked to the back of the garage, tipped the trunk over and spilled the contents into a 30-gallon trash bag. “Twelve seventy three,” she announced.
I picked up the bag, and handed her my cash. For a second she looked surprised; she thought I had wanted the trunk. But she took my money, and I rushed back to my car with the bulging bag, its blue plastic drawstrings vibrating in the cold lake wind.