44. Express Line
Later that morning, DUI Dave was at the front desk signing in.
He said, “I was in the express line at the grocery store. The woman in front of me had at least fifteen items in her cart. I fantasized about hitting her in the head with each item, counting them as I went. I wanted to tell her she was too stupid to shop, storm out of the store and get drunk, and blame her for my drinking. Instead I pointed out the eight item limit. Since I had just one, I asked if I could go in front of her. She huffed, the woman at the register frowned at her, and she stepped aside like I owed her for giving me a kidney. I thanked her.”
“That sounds great,” Ms. Rella said. “You handled that well.”
“Yeah, but in the lot I made a rude gesture at somebody taking forever to park. Passing by, I saw he was a really, really, old priest. He smiled. I don’t think he saw I had waved with just one finger. I felt like a total jackass. He wasn’t taking his time just to annoy me. He probably did everything slow.”
“Progress not perfection,” I said.
Today I will be grateful for any situation I handle well.
Sober Not Somber © 2015 by Ken Montrose
(Just a reminder: Sober Not Somber is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone you might know is purely coincidental.)