Form B

I got up to leave, frustrated that I’d forgotten the proper paperwork. You were very helpful in the process all the way up to my blunder. There was no condescension in your voice as you suggested rescheduling our appointment for the next day. I told you I’d forget my ass if it wasn’t duck taped to me. You didn’t laugh but that was alright. I know there’s no room for levity in a taxman’s tool belt. There was a moment of hesitation when I put out my hand to say thanks. You slowly stood and extended your fingers like a pair of tweezers and grabbed the tip of my middle finger as if it were the beak of dead crow your schoolyard friends had just dared you to pick up. After a quick jiggle you released it and I almost apologized–for what I wasn’t sure. I made quick steps for the door.