Drove over to a street full of cute little boutiques to buy a gift for my yoga teacher's fiftieth birthday party. I pull into a metered spot, grab a handful of change, charge into the store and am about to start looking when I realize I still have the meter change pressed in my clueless palm. I tear out of the store just in time to see that the meter man has materialized out of nowhere and is about to write me up. "Wait!" I cry, holding up my palm full of coins." I was coming out to feed it. See?" "I see," the little prick responds,as he writes me up, places the ticket on my car and walks away. I'm furious, at him, at myself, at all the inequities of life on this planet. I look around, trying to calm down as I feed the meter. A lady is walking towards me, preceded by two small, frisky, apple-cheeked children, one barely out of toddlerhood, the other maybe five. I smile at them and the little girl smiles back with a cheerful "Hi, old lady!"
I guess I'm having a day.
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