"I am going to have to choke this guy out."
I am at the post office in Madrid. I need to mail back my contracts to my new employer in Vermont. Everything is ready, I just need a stamp. The little dog is panting at my feet trying to sniff the woman next to me who has no wish to be sniffed. Since the ticket machine is broken I ask (as is Spanish custom) "Who is last?" A priest tells me he is. The next person comes in, asks who is last and I assent that I am. He is a beefy guy, a little taller than me, slight gut, black hair turning to grey, muscled but not enormous. Ten minutes go by and the same woman is still at one of the two open windows. I look to the guy who came in behind me and roll my eyes. "For the love of God," he says. "I know. Incredible." That was a mistake. The little dog is lying on the marble floor, clearly thinking we are at the vet and a rectal exam is coming his way soon so he is panting in distress. Five minutes later my beefy friend is throwing a fit, cursing and swearing, blamin