The Bishop and Me

As all my fellow procrastinators know, today is the absolute final day that you can file your 2008 taxes without penalty. That’s right, 2008. The final time of this final day is the hour before 5 when the Post Office closes.

That’s where I was today at 4:45 PM. There was a line. It was a long line.

For the most part, my fellow postal patrons were a quiet group. They silently accepted their fate of standing in the que waiting for one of the two open windows to free up. It moved slowly.

I decided to engage someone in a conversation to pass the time. In front of me was a twenty something woman. She was attractive and fashionably attired. She also appeared to be a little self absorbed.

Behind me was a tall broad shouldered guy wearing a cowboy hat, jeans and a denim jacket. He was an old dog like me. I made a comment about this being a popular place today.

“Tax day,” he replied.

Indeed. I introduced myself as a fellow tax procrastinator.

“Bishop Robinson,” he said shaking my hand.

Bishop and I proceed to have a lively conversation about work (he’s an attorney), family, and the indignities of age. Bishop is five years older than me. He recently had knee surgery. I didn’t tell him about my health event.

“Did you grow up around here?” I asked.

“Baltimore,” he replied. My dad was used to be the police commissioner.

That’s a fact. Bishop Robinson was the first African American Police Commissioner in the City of Baltimore.

Before long the time had passed and we found ourselves at the head of time. We exchanged business cards and agreed that it might be good to keep in touch. I shook his hand and approached the next available postal worker.

“Is it always like this on October 16th?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied but with the cutbacks we are so short staffed. I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” I replied, “no problem at all.”