Car kharma
Since I am already a week late on getting my car registration renewed, I spent this morning getting my emissions checked, even though the snowy grey skies were calling me back to my cozy big bed in front of the DVD player.
As I made the final turn into the waiting line of cars, an old guy zipped past me (ignoring his stop sign) and coasted in the shorter line ahead. Resigned to my fate and sure that I was being punished for my procrastination, I took my spot in the other line of cars waiting ahead.
The time passed as it usually does when you are listening to Saturday morning radio, and I was soon motioned to skip over a few lanes into the next spot. Happy to make my way to the front of the line, I gladly turned my car over to the professionals and wondered why it seemed like really only two of the lines were moving, and why would this one start all of a sudden?
Ah, my spidey-sense was definitely tingling for a reason- there was only one cashier. She ran from station to station taking everyone's carefully filled-out checks (no credit cards here, it would be too similar to an actual business) and making her way to the ends (one of which where I was waiting) only every 10 minutes or so and getting to the people in the middle much more quickly. Once again resigned to my fate, I tried not to take out my growing impatience on the lady, who actually seemed to be doing the job as quickly as you could.
Then I turned around and checked out the car waiting behind mine. That person would have to wait even longer, a painful additional 20 minutes in the cold until she was finished up with me and then made her way back. Just as I was starting to feel sorry for the poor soul, I realized it was the old guy who had cut me off earlier.
HA! Chump. I'm not feeling so bad about this whole thing after all.
As I made the final turn into the waiting line of cars, an old guy zipped past me (ignoring his stop sign) and coasted in the shorter line ahead. Resigned to my fate and sure that I was being punished for my procrastination, I took my spot in the other line of cars waiting ahead.
The time passed as it usually does when you are listening to Saturday morning radio, and I was soon motioned to skip over a few lanes into the next spot. Happy to make my way to the front of the line, I gladly turned my car over to the professionals and wondered why it seemed like really only two of the lines were moving, and why would this one start all of a sudden?
Ah, my spidey-sense was definitely tingling for a reason- there was only one cashier. She ran from station to station taking everyone's carefully filled-out checks (no credit cards here, it would be too similar to an actual business) and making her way to the ends (one of which where I was waiting) only every 10 minutes or so and getting to the people in the middle much more quickly. Once again resigned to my fate, I tried not to take out my growing impatience on the lady, who actually seemed to be doing the job as quickly as you could.
Then I turned around and checked out the car waiting behind mine. That person would have to wait even longer, a painful additional 20 minutes in the cold until she was finished up with me and then made her way back. Just as I was starting to feel sorry for the poor soul, I realized it was the old guy who had cut me off earlier.
HA! Chump. I'm not feeling so bad about this whole thing after all.
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