The recovery driver glanced up. “Morning.”
“Take that off my car!”
The enforcement officer stepped forward. “Is this your vehicle, madam?”
“Obviously it’s my vehicle!”
“Can I see some identification, please?”
She looked across the street then.
At me.
Standing in my kitchen doorway in yesterday’s clothes with a mug of tea.
Her face went through several things in rapid succession.
“You,” she said.
“Morning,” I said.
“You called them?”
“Yes.”
She started toward my house. The enforcement officer stepped into her path, not physically blocking her but positioning himself in the way that makes it clear that engagement with him is the appropriate next step.
Ezoic
“Madam, I need you to stay here for a moment.”
“She’s doing this because of some stupid argument!”
“Twenty-two stupid arguments, actually,” I called back.
Denise looked like she had bitten into something. “You could have knocked!”
I raised my eyebrows. “I did.”
