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After spending 3-1/2 hours enduring the long lines, surly clerks, and insane regulations, at the department of motor vehicles, I stopped at a toy store to pick up a gift for my son.
I brought my selection - a baseball bat - to the cash register. 'Cash or charge?' the clerk asked.
'Cash,' I snapped. Then realizing that my pent-up frustrations had just leaked out, I apologized for my rudeness, and explained: 'I've spent the afternoon at the Department of Motor Vehicles.'
'Shall I giftwrap the bat?' the clerk asked sweetly. 'Or are you going back there?'
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