Name Calling

We approached the gate house to our city park and the woman who has held the day shift for the ten years that I have been going there steps out. She is a roundish woman well into her sixties. Her short bob with severe bangs accentuates her stern face. But looks are deceiving. She is kind. Although she knows me, she is steeped in protocol. I show our pass, and we make small talk. I roll up the window and drive on to the parking lot. From the backseat Julia says, "If I was that lady's mom, I would have named her Karen. She looks like a Karen to me." Long pause, "Or maybe Kerrie or Terrie. Yeah, definitely one of those."