What's So Funny About...

On Friday I was leaving work, and I went next door to tell the African History professor to have a nice weekend.

I knocked on his door, and he said, "Yes?" Sometimes he mistakenly says, "Oui?"

I then opened the door, and he saw it was me. He then flashed me a peace sign and said, "Peace and love, man."

I replied, "Have a nice weekend."

It suddenly seemed like I had brought a ham sandwich to a banquet. This would never have happened in the corporate world. In that setting, I was the most thoughtful and sensitive guy in the place. C'est la vie.

Where Should I Park?

Me and Krista went to the beach in August, which was fun. When we arrived at the motel, the parking lot appeared to go on forever and was jammed. After I checked in I asked the desk clerk, or whatever her title was, "Where should I park? The lot looks full."

She replied, "Well, I think there are some spots around the side of the building."

I asked if she meant behind the building, and she said no just on the side. "Or you can park in the handicap spot. This is a private lot, and the police will not ticket or tow your car. And we do not have any handicapped people staying here tonight. But I tell you what. Just ask Buddy when you get outside. He's our security guard."

I get outside and the security guard is talking to another guest of the motel. I ask, "Where should I park?"

The guard says, "Well, there's a couple spots around the side of the building. Then there's one under the tree at the end over there. I think there might be one space up front there..."

Then the guest that he's talking to says, "Or you could park in the handicap spot. There aren't any handicap people here tonight."

At that point the guard goes inside. I literally walk twenty feet to the side of the building and there are about three parking spots right there. And it turns out that the lot was actually much, much smaller than I thought.

The guard then walks up to me and says, "Hey, I want to apologize for walking away back there. That guy that I was talking to has been coming down here for five years straight or something, and I guess he thinks he runs the place now. Here I am trying to do my job and tell you where you can park, and he interrupts to start telling you to park in the handicap spot."

At this point we're literally standing at the empty parking spot.

The guard continues, "Technically, he is correct. You could park in the handicap spot because this is private property and the police do not enforce those handicap spots."

"Well, I'm just going to park here, because I want to just leave my car here for the next three days."

"Oh, I see," the guard comes back with. "Well you better not park in the handicap spot because even though there aren't any handicapped people here tonight, there may be some come here tomorrow. Then we'd need the spot, of course."

"I see," I replied. "Well, it's only about twenty feet over to the room from here, so I think I'll just park here. Thank you for your help."

The guard continues, "That's fine. Do you need help with the luggage?"

"No," I reply.

"Again, I'm sorry about that walking away like that. I just lost my temper back there. The guy was trying to tell me that you don't need a fishing license if you're just a tourist. I told him to just go ahead and try to fish without a license and see what happens. But he just knows everything. He'll see."

It was about eleven o'clock in the p.m. when I eventually got our bags in the room, put on my union suit, and got into bed. Then the phone rang. The woman from the front desk asked, "Sir, did I give you the credit card slip back?"

"Yes. Yes, you did."

"I'm sorry. I need that. I'll come down to your room and get it."

I got up, got dressed, and met her at the door with the credit card slip.