"I'd like to rent a car for the night," I told the agent, selecting a good old-fashioned white Jeep Wrangler. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I was ready for my usual Jeep routine and scouted a place to sleep for the night. I drove to the nearest hotel parking lot and, in my usual fashion, climbed into the backseat to rest.
At 4:00 a.m., I returned the car. When I turned in my keys, the employee checked my mileage. "Two miles?" he asked, bewildered.
p. 250, 50 Jobs in 50 States. Daniel Seddiqui.
"What are you doing there, you lazy batos?" said a voice he instantly recognized as his mother's. Which was odd because he was sure he remember her as being quite dead for quite some time.
p. 6, Sword of Damocles. Geoffrey Thorne.