Went to the Auto Club, Triple A, AAA, to turn in my paperwork, renew the car registration and get my sticker, all at the same location.

The woman at the front desk said, “Cash or charge?”

I looked at Chaz, who said, “Charge, credit card.”

So I was waved to a side table where another young woman motioned me to a chair, I sat, and she brought another chair for Chaz.

I praised her for her sensitive professionalism because there are some insensitive people who wouldn’t even think of doing such a thing, and I like telling people when they’re appreciated, and they seem to appreciate hearing it.

She said, “Car registration renewal?” and I said, “Yes” and handed over the paperwork and she got to work.

I got out my driver’s license, my Triple A Membership, and my Visa.

I think I don’t get out enough, because even just walking this little bit gets my juices flowing and bubbling and I tend to gush enthusiasm, which the world needs now more than ever.

So I tried openings to see which to pursue, testing the waters, vehicle registration led to vehicle safety and the functions of proper government, and the current state of things, and I steered the conversation, because there wasn’t a line waiting and she had a minute, allowing me to steer toward the news she hadn’t heard about how Pasadena gathered in front of the local hotel where the ICE agents were staying, their cars parked prominently out front, and Pasadena made such a righteous noise that the ICE men couldn’t sleep and the Hotel Management said, “We have to ask you to leave, we have other customers,” and they left!

Yay for Pasadena!

The woman almost cheered, this is Berkeley after all, we traded barbs at a common target, I gave her my card, I said, “One by one,” we left for the next stop and I whispered to Chaz, “Was I too obvious?” and he said, “Yes.”

Next stop, UPS. Sending back a package. Chaz finished the tape up, I started in on an employee who wasn’t busy at the moment, told the guy within hearing of everybody how great this office is, professional, efficient, I’m always glad to come here, they all like hearing it because I really mean it and they can tell.

So the conversation drifted to the Pasadena triumph of ICE removal, it fell on welcome ears because, you know, Berkeley. (Well, El Cerrito, but close enough.) We covered the bases, I gave my card, we all became friends.

One by one.

Then we went home and ate the donuts we bought from the shop next door, and life was better.