Calling in a favor

“You stupid son of a bitch, learn how to drive,” she screamed as her arm waved out the car window in a New York hello. A small-town girl living in a big city, there was a lot to learn about driving. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, kid,” she added. Talking to herself as she drove was something new. New York wasn’t home, and life moved far too fast for her liking. As the young girl passed the car in question, she looked over, horrified at who she had yelled at a few minutes ago. In the front seat of the old black car sat a Priest. Not a Minister, but a full-fledged, I am telling God on you, Priest. 

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