Cutting Scenes - The Fine Line

trapper keeper or Easter egg than a mode of transportation as it
sat idling like a sickly little bee behind me.
Surely this boy knew that I had been waiting for this spot.
I rolled down my window to kindly let the young man know—just
incase he was genuinely oblivious to his surroundings. His dark
hoody and chrome tinted sunglasses concealed his facial
expression, but he told me in not so many words—just two in
fact—to get lost. The only way I was getting that spot was to
put my car on top of him. Feeling it wasn’t worth it, I moved on
to find another.
I gave up trying to find a spot near the mall entrance, and
then gave up trying to find one near the closest department
store entrance before heading next-door to the movie theatre
lot. Finally, I found one between a curb and a huge pickup with
scary looking tires. The owner of the truck must have not
realized that his vehicle was a bit too large to fit exactly
between the lines, and I was forced to exit my car through the
passenger-side door. Once I managed to squeeze out, I maneuvered
carefully between my car and the boxwood bushes adorning the
curb, but one of the branches reached out and snagged me. As I
tried to free my sweater, one of my buttons became a casualty—
popping off and rolling up under my car. I took a deep breath to
calm my nerves and got down on my knees to peek under and look
for it. After all, it wasn’t just any button; it was an antique
button I found in my grandmother’s sewing room about ten years
ago. She had two of them and gave me both. I put them on a
sweater and have always received nice complements when wearing
them. I reached under as I spied my button lying close to the
back tire. I felt around blindly in the spot next to my tire and
pulled it out. As I rose to my feet dusting myself off, I opened
my hand to blow the dirt off of my button; but when I opened my
hand, lying in my palm wasn’t my button, it was a tossed out
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