Tuesday, December 6, 2011

101. Call Me

I guess we’re out of touch with the world. Neither Izzy or I realized how difficult it would be to find a pay phone. We drove around and parked outside a drug store, a chain grocery store and the local sports pavilion, while Izzy ran in to look for a phone. Cell technology has evidently made pay phones a losing business proposition. Finally, Izzzy told me to drive to the town hall. I walked inside with him and he asked the first worker we met to direct us to the police department.

Just inside their swinging doors, the police had a small waiting area with chairs lined up against the wall.

“Sit here and don’t go anywhere,” Izzy told me. He walked about twenty feet across the space to a window on the opposite wall, behind which sat a policeman in uniform. Izzy pulled out his wallet and opened it for the policeman to see. I could not hear their short conversation, but in a moment a buzzer sounded and Izzy turned and walked through a door on the far wall.  I sat their staring after him in wonder.

No comments: