Friday, December 07, 2012


I slipped exploring tidepools and fractured my ankle. Have to wear a ginormous (actual word in dictionary) torture boot. Figured I might as well get a handicapped parking placard out of my suffering so spoke to the Dr.'s assistant: Darwin.

"Darwin, I had groceries carried out to my truck for the first time in my life."
"Oh? You usually muscle them yourself?"
"Yes, because I'm an Amazon."
"Is that like Wonder Woman?"
"Not exactly. Amazons are more secretive about their prowess."
"That'll work. Tell me, Darwin, is that your real name?"
"It's not the name of your band?"
"Because that would rock."
"It would?"
"Oh yes! Did you get teased about your name when you were a kid?"
"Not really. It wasn't that unusual where I come from."
"The Galapagos?"
"You're teasing me, ma'am."
Darwin's respectful last word. Until mine.
"So, about that handicapped placard . . . "

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