Doing What I Came For

Doing What I Came For

“What are you doing here?”

I stared at her following the question.

“Hi Mildred! I have an appointment.”

All business, my best friend and neighbor said: “Name please. First and last.

“You know my name, bestie.”

“Routine. I’ll need some identification as well.”

I took out my driver’s license. She looked it over as if she were sure it was fake.

“Take a seat, you’re early!”

As I sat down in the only vacant chair, I checked my watch.

“A whole two minutes,” I muttered.

Mildred called my name and led me to the last cubicle at the back of the room.

“Ms. Tolliver, this is Nelda Gibbs. Nelda, this is Janet Tolliver.”

We nodded at each other and shook hands.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Ms. Tolliver suggested briskly.

I handed her my bulging folder and sat in the client’s chair.

After about an hour, we were done, and the paperwork was filed electronically. I thanked my preparer. With my copy clutched in my hand, I went to the front and paid for the services. Then I headed to the bank to pay THE MAN his due.

“I hate tax time,” I groused as I drove.