Gordon parked his car in front of the financial center. He needed to be on time to give his presentation on the company’s strategy for identity success in a global marketplace.
 
“Who are you?”
“My name is Gordon Snaff.”
“No it’s not, who are you?”
“I told you, my name is Gordon Snaff!”
“No, it is not who you are.”
“Gordon Snaff!”
“No, it is who you are not.”
“Gordon Snaff…”
“You are who it is not, no?”
“Gordon…uh…”
“Who is not it, you are, no?”
“I tell you, my name is…”
“No, are you who it is not?
“I…”
“No, is who you are, not it?”
“…”
“You are not who it is, no?”
 
What Gordon found most disturbing was not the fact that he was having an identity crisis, but rather the fact that he was having this conversation with a parking meter. He searched his pockets for change, and found nothing.             
 
Suddenly, he was putting pieces of himself into the parking meter. It started with a toenail, which bought him 30 seconds of parking. Some saliva brought 15 seconds more. He cut a piece of skin from the nape of his neck, a minute more. A deposit of his innermost dreams into the meter gained him 5 minutes. Unfortunately, it was not enough. The car remained, but Gordon was towed away