Better take a cab back to the office. Quicker he got heeled the better, he thought.
He whistled up a cab, gave the address, and was there in double quick time.
These fares and such were eating away his cash like acid on skin. He picked the mail out of the box, unlocked the door, walked in, flicked on the light.
Bills. Light bill, water bill, rent for this dump. He tossed them on his desk. Wait, what was that one. He pulled an official looking envelope out from the pile.
Aw, shit no.
Selective Service Board Number 4. "Mr. Chimp: Greetings from the President of the United States...."
No, hell no. He couldn't be drafted. Not with his knee. And besides, he had enough lead in him to be a bullet factory. "...to report for duty in the Armed Forces...October 4...."
Who the hell do you appeal something like this too, he wondered.