There I was, on my way to the post office and right ahead of me, jay-walking no less, is our PO. (Well...our former PO). All alone...in his nice gray suit and little folder under his arm (what happened to book-bags...are they obsolete?), Diligently going from not at home to not at home.
With just a slight press on the gas...I could have snuffed him out. There he was; ripe for the taking. But I chose the high road and decided that going to prison wasn't worth running over his a**. Such temptation to overcome. Yup...just a little bit on the gas and by by PO. Feels good to use my conscience. Oh hahahahaha!!!!!!
mumsy