Atcher service

AUGUSTA, GA. - So Scott was out at the Coliseum Authority meeting, covering a group of people so frequently inept that the organization would probably function better if they forgot to hold meetings at all. He had just opened the door and hopped in his company car when a man jumped into the back seat.

"Augusta Mall," he says.
Scott chances a look back. The man is well-dressed, wearing a suit, and seems polite. Most certainly not a hold-up.

"Excuse me, sir?"
"Augusta Mall, please," the man says.
"I'm... I'm not going to the mall," Scott stammers.
"Well, can you call me someone who is?"
"Sir, did you read the signs on the side of the car?"
"No," the man looks irritated. "I didn't bother to read your advertising."

Most of you have not seen the clown car. Every time Scott gets in, I expect an army of midgets to spill out. I saw an elephant park it for him once. It bristles with antennae to signal the clown car mothership. It has a spinning yellow emergency light on the rooftop. It is plastered from trunk to hood with varying versions of the radio station's logo and call letters:

!!!!!! It proclaims to the masses.

But this man thought he was a cab.

If it had been me, I'd have taken his butt the 10 minutes to the mall and charged him $20.
But Scott has more pride.

And fewer $20 bills.