I slammed my palm onto the space bar. "Clamming up, eh? After you've gone and put my foot into it, you just shut up! Well, all right, stay shut up. See if I give one good damn!"
The typewriter didn't seem to care much. It didn't form a single word. I threw the carriage all the way to the right, stalked to the closet and slammed my rainy-day hat onto my head, even though it wasn't raining.
At the door, I shot a hot glance at the machine, and then walked out, slamming the flimsy wood behind me.
I went straight to the pawn shop. I slammed the glass door behind me, hard enough so that I thought it'd shatter, and then I stalked over to the counter. The old man was nowhere in sight. I banged my fist on the wooden counter top.
"Hey!" I yelled.
"Just a minute."
I sucked in a deep breath, held it until I thought I'd burst.
"Hey!" I bellowed.
"All right, all right."