The parking lot of a suburban hardware store with several parking spaces, including one occupied by an SUV with a customized license plate.

When you figure out the small needful thing with help from a random instructional video, you wonder if the rest of everything else can be similarly broken down. What happens if I wander in here and ask about such and such? Let’s see, I can use these few free minutes to finish off this memoir and return some library books, cutting bait on two I didn’t get around to in time. Scary mode, activated.

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