It was Crystal, the overweight punk. The funny part was, when I returned just in time prior to the 2pm close that same day, breathless and sweaty in the December heat, with the freshly-minted antecedents penales, she changed her demeanor completely and seemed genuinely delighted that I had miraculously pulled off the task she had set me four hours earlier. She then looked at my papers again and seemed pleased to discover we lived in the same neighborhood. Ahhh, the mind games they play.
It was my second encounter with Crystal. At the first, couple of months earlier, with a friend I sat patiently with ticket number 32 in my hand while she repeated summoned number 31. The lucky owner of 31 never responded, probably because Crystal was barely making any effort to make her voice heard from behind the glass partition. After about the 10th unanswered call, I was just at the point of presenting myself as a willing substitute for 31 to keep things moving, when her colleague at the next desk called out number 32. So we approached him instead and presented ticket 32. But, for whatever reason, he decided he couldn't attend us and so, since Crystal was unoccupied due to 31´s no-show, he passed us on to her. We sat down in front of her and she hissed at us: Are you deaf? I was calling you for ages!