Relative Something

During the past week at work, I had 2 interesting experiences. The first one served to reveal, first-hand, the struggle for employment that the current economic situation has forced on people. A woman walked in to our suite and asked if we had any openings. I informed her that we had none and she politely pleaded with me that she will do ANYTHING, offering cleaning as an example. She presented herself with a dignified desperation and admitted that she has resorted to going door to door seeking work because nothing else has proved successful for her. All I could offer was my sympathy and wishes of luck.

The second experience also involved a woman walking into our suite. She came in to report a lock-box on the ground in the parking lot in front of our site, with the keys in it. I stepped out with her and found a plastic case about the size of a large shoe box out in the driving lane. It looked very conspicuous there. The woman wondered if it might be ours. It wasn’t, and I had no ideas where it might have come from, so I decided, since the keys were in it, to open it up for a look, hoping it might offer a clue.

For a split second, the thought occurred to me that this black box might have been placed with nefarious intentions. I questioned myself for the action I was taking and maybe even flinched a bit, but while the woman was still present, I turned the key and lifted the lid. It was completely empty. Nothing but a mystery.

I decided to check with the local police in case someone had reported a loss. I figured it was possible the box was dropped by a thief. A patrol car stopped by and the officer told me they had no reports that appeared related. He took the box for safe keeping, ending my excitement for the day.

All that was left was to hop in the car with Cyndie and head to the lake. It was a beautiful day for a cruise in the convertible and we took our time on the drive, staying just 5 mph over the posted limits, allowing drivers feeling a much greater sense of urgency to ride our bumper until they could rush around our car to get to the one 20 feet ahead of us and ride their bumper. I love cruise control and not needing to be in an anxious haste to move in front of every car ahead of me. I make a better passive-aggressive driver than a blatant aggressor.

Have you ever noticed that anybody driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac? George Carlin