And So It Begins

The guy behind the deli counter asked me for legal advice after he saw the copy of "Immgration Procedures" poking out of my shoulder bag. For a moment, it kind of freaked me out, like when someone you don't know calls you by name and it takes a minute before your brain kicks in and reminds you that you're wearing a big sticker on your chest announcing your name to the world. I told him that I was only an intern and couldn't really give him advice, but that he could make an appointment to speak to one of the attorneys in the office (which is only a couple of blocks away; I often shop on my lunch break or before boarding the Metro home).

At least I know no one will ever attempt to show me their oozing rash at a party for diagnosis.