Time: Part II

By Al Horn

If you read part one of this essay, and you were able to identify with what happened, then you can probably relate to what I am about to tell you. If you haven't read part one, then don't blame me if you get lost. If you read part one but couldn't see yourself in that same position, then close this page and return to your perfect life.

Less than a week after the cheese slicer incident, I had a need to stop at the same store on the way to work. Needless to say, I left over twenty minutes earlier than usual. You know, once bitten, twice shy. As fate would have it, I hit nothing but green lights on the way to the store and was able to park at the nearest space to the door.

Upon entering the store I started to head for the end of the registers to circle around to what I came for. This is one of those stores that put chains up between closed lanes so that you have to walk twice as far to get where you're going. Alas, the chain between me and the row containing the soft drinks lay still upon the floor. Accepting this as an invitation, I promptly cut through and headed toward my goal. Not only did they have the brand I came for, it was on sale.

Now, an optimist would have smiled and accepted his good fortune. Having inherited seventy percent of my father's pessimist genes, I suspected that a huge, insurmountable obstacle lurked just around the corner. I was still a ways from work and knew anything could go wrong. If my mother and wife are reading this, they are shaking both their heads at this point. My father, on the other hand, would be nodding in understanding.

As it turned out, the checker was waiting at the register, I had exact change, and not one vehicle was parked around my truck. There was no waiting to get on to the streets or the interstate. No accidents to slow me down. Both lights I encountered turned green as I approached them. I arrived to work almost thirty minutes early.

Isn't that the way it always works? You leave too little time to spare and you are rushing to keep from being late. Leave too early and realize that you could have gotten an extra hit or two off of the old snooze button. On this particular morning, it was still dark but not very cold out. Deciding to take advantage of the situation, I reached for my paper and hit the button for my inside light just to discover the bulb was burned out. Keep on nodding, Dad.