Chapter 33

Chapter 33

I had a post office box to which I had registered my bank mail and sent my credit card statements, but I needed a physical address. I had decided to get a learner’s permit, and New York State required a physical location when registering for passports or driver's licenses. When a person passed the exam, the permit was mailed to that address. If Yossef Mendel found a permit in our mailbox, he would tell all the rabbis and bigwigs in an instant. Where would I send it? I asked the post office if they had a physical address, but they only offered PO Boxes. What else could I do? Whom could I ask? I was almost out of ideas when I remembered that on my way to the library there was a little mailing place that sold trinkets of  “I Love New York” and “The Empire State,” small magnets with Jennifer and Christopher pre-printed on them, and greeting cards with quippy punchlines. I walked inside the shop on my way to the library. A loud bell tinkered when I pulled the door open. I browsed the front. On the wall by the entryway, there were pictures of what I imagined was the owner with a blonde wife and several children, and pictures of the owner with a big fish and a big grin. The guy was in the back, but he was making conversation with a customer who waited by shouting chit chat from where he was working. When he saw me he slid over to the counter. 
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