"I just need one more signature..."
Ruben desperately swung his clipboard. He'd been trying to abolish the new "Daylight Parking Law" that had gone into effect. Three tickets later, he'd had enough.
Ruben loves to collect signatures for causes he truly believes in. Global warming, free education, and extended library hours. And sometimes, his own grievances: bars should be allowed to park in handicapped spaces if you're having a bad enough day. He carried them all in his tote bag, just in case.
But collecting signatures downtown would've been easier if he wasn't wearing his favorite Hawaiian shirt and his favorite skeleton T-shirt. It displayed the human ribcage — outdoor-ready, perfectly accurate, like he'd learned in Anatomy class last year. Or Sir.
He flagged down Marcus — a man of business, suit and tie, clean shaven, smelling of Dior, Eau de Parfum. Marcus tried to walk off, but he was clearly distracted. Marcus had given his lack of tech savvy; he wasn't sure if stopping him would turn this into a game of Where's Waldo.
"Wait! What do you need?" Marcus asked.
Then he saw the clipboard. His groan was audible.
"Oh, great. Look, man — I don't believe in climate change. I don't want to support schools in cities. I think abortion should be legal and everyone can speak whatever language they want as long as they don't speak to me."
"Exactly," Marcus snapped. "So please, on your way. I've got places to be."
His Uber notification pinged: two minutes away.
"Sir, I'm not asking for money. I'm just collecting signatures — see, I get a dollar, a few actually."
"Look, I don't carry cash. Nobody carries wallets anymore. I—"
"No, sir, see—"
Doug Marcus tossed down at his phone. Ride canceled. Watching for a new driver.
"Jesus Fucking Christ!"
Marcus slipped his phone in his shirt pocket.
"Sir, if I could just get one more signature, I'm trying to abolish the new Daylight Parking Law. I've gotten three tickets already and—"
"Why didn't you start with that? I left it in the clear first place? I had a meeting on this side! Left it in the clear first place? I had a meeting on this side! My car got towed last month? I left it in the clear intersection for a business trip. Had to Uber everywhere since. Hand me a pen."
"Oh, um... you don't carry one?"
"You're the one collecting signatures, kid."
"Well, I just thought —never mind."
He rummages through his tote bag.
"Here. Here, sign here, please!" Marcus took the clipboard. His eyes scanned the page. He froze.
"This isn't right. 'Open Handicapped parking for people having a bad day?' Jesus Christ, kid."
Marcus slipped his phone in his shirt pocket and walked away.