aim high, shoot low

The tag hanging from my rear view mirror is good for only one thing. If I need to get into any Manitoba provincial park, the tag gives me passage into the fast lane. Slow down and wave are the only requirements.

I was craving a tag of a different variety this afternoon. Joyce wanted to pop into the General Hospital to see her brother for 15 minutes while I stayed in the car with a sleeping toddler. The only spot to park in that was in the shade and that didn't require a payment of three hours minimum, was one with a wheelchair sign. The large SUV in the spot next to it donned the required blue tag, hanging in the required visible position.

I pulled into the spot and left the car running so as to give everyone the impression that the stay was very temporary. I felt a little guilty. Then I saw another sign indicating that I was in an idle free zone. The guilt quickly compounded, but was not a deterrrant from keeping the car cool with the airconditioning running.

The SUV owners arrived with their handicapped rider and were about to leave when the man walked over to my car and tapped on the window and pointed at what I thought was the handicapped sign. As I was fumbling for the automatic window button, I was already forming my response, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm only here for a minute. What are you, some kind of parking patrol?"

The window smoothly lowered and the man once again pointed and said, "53". "I've got 53 minutes left on the meter...you can have my spot when I go". "Thanks man", I said with an awkward smile, feeling like a schmuck.

I need to spend a little more time at the firing range.