He said, “I may be reminding you of that before we’re done with the driver’s license.”“That damned driver’s license! I can’t recall when...I’ve been so humiliated in my entire life.”Everything came back to the damned driver’s license. He couldn’t work without some sort of state ID. He couldn’t get a bank account without one. Even things like phone and insurance that seemed vaguely possible without an ID were greatly simplified if he had an ID.Getting an ID—even a driver’s license—was simple if. The music was again exquisite and penetrating. Sipping my drink and overlooking the cramped conditions, I immersed myself in the music, swaying my hips as I listened to these songs. There was virtually no space behind my table; but yet I heard several muffled voices. I turned my head casually to look back, seeing a group of four older men sitting close to me in a filthy table.They all smiled as I glanced at them and tilted their drinks up toasting me. I quickly faced the band again. With each. Is there something wrong with it?"There was a knock on the door. "Nearly finished, Miss Ptarmigan?" said Creamy, coming in and looking Lt Smith up and down. "Is this the last one?" No, he's only the first. I think there's something wrong with him."Creamy looked at her watch. "You've really got to get a move on, Miss Ptarmigan. We need to be finished with this exercise in another twenty minutes. I'll take this one into the wardroom pantry and interview him. Captain's orders. You'd better call. I know I’m not sexy. When I put my underwear on I can hear the Fruit-of-the-Loom guys giggling.My wife is such a bad cook. In my house we pray after the meal.My wife likes to talk to me during sex; last night she called me from a hotel.It’s been a rough day. I got up this morning and put a shirt on and a button fell off. I picked up my briefcase and the handle came off. I’m afraid to go to the bathroom.I was such an ugly kid! When I played in the sandbox, the cat kept covering me up.I could.