“Do the driver need this?” She asked in that Appalachian drawl. It was a sheet of notepaper with the address of the Eye and Ear Institute scribbled on it.
“He’ll ask where you’re going, yes.” I told her. She seemed surprised at either the simplicity or the convenience, I couldn’t tell which.
She turned to her brother, or boyfriend, again I couldn’t tell, “Is this a part of the Presbaytrian?”
He made a gesture like he didn’t know, or his hearing aid was malfunctioning.
“Presbytr… Presbry…” She kept trying. “It’s a part of some hospital.” She looked at me.
I assured her they’d get there.
He was wearing an AC/DC shirt.