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I'm a fatalist. I strongly believe that if shit is destined to happen to you, it will happen. You can minimize the effects to some extent, but you can't totally get out from under.
I was floating at a different store for three days this week. (Which is good, because then I get 10 hour shifts rather than my usual 4. Money, yum.) This store does not have a parking lot, which means I have to either find on-street parking, or take the bus. I'm reluctant to do the latter because I prefer to control my own route in the event of traffic or whatever.
(This falls under the category of "minimizing shit happening"; if there's traffic, you're going to be late, no matter how early you leave. Case in point, there's no way across the Hackensack River but Route 3, and when there's an accident blocking two of the four lanes right on the damn bridge, you're screwed unless you want to go all the way up to 46 or all the way down to 7, of which are A) miles and miles out of your way and B) probably just as backed up. You can still minimize the delay in other places, though.)
So I drive in, and am looking for parking. This is restricted to residents of the "township" (which is rather a grandiose name for a place that's less than 0.8 square mile of land); all others are limited to 4 hours in any given spot, which means I have to go out twice in the 10-hour shift and move it elsewhere. In any case, I find the first spot, and I'm trying to get up as far as I can to the edge of the adjoining driveway (there's a white stripe painted in the street so you know where to stop) in order not to take up two spots, a practice that never fails to piss me off when I see it, especially where spots are at a premium.
I'm a bit far forward, though, so I try backing up just a bit . . . SKRONTCH!! . . . wait a minute, who put that damn tree there? And how come I suddenly don't seem to have a passenger-side mirror any more?
I have to say, I felt not angry, but an overwhelming sense of relief. It looks like God in His wisdom ordained that I get in an accident today. I've been watching those Russian dash-cam vids lately, and I have to say, if I did have to hit something, let it be a tree rather than a person or another car, let me have been going not more than 3 MPH (in reverse), let the total damage be not more than $17.00 (because that's how much the replacement mirror cost when I ordered it on eBay), let it be my 25-year-old Chevy rustbucket rather than the leased 2011 Subaru. In short, thank God it wasn't worse. I think I got off easy.
I was floating at a different store for three days this week. (Which is good, because then I get 10 hour shifts rather than my usual 4. Money, yum.) This store does not have a parking lot, which means I have to either find on-street parking, or take the bus. I'm reluctant to do the latter because I prefer to control my own route in the event of traffic or whatever.
(This falls under the category of "minimizing shit happening"; if there's traffic, you're going to be late, no matter how early you leave. Case in point, there's no way across the Hackensack River but Route 3, and when there's an accident blocking two of the four lanes right on the damn bridge, you're screwed unless you want to go all the way up to 46 or all the way down to 7, of which are A) miles and miles out of your way and B) probably just as backed up. You can still minimize the delay in other places, though.)
So I drive in, and am looking for parking. This is restricted to residents of the "township" (which is rather a grandiose name for a place that's less than 0.8 square mile of land); all others are limited to 4 hours in any given spot, which means I have to go out twice in the 10-hour shift and move it elsewhere. In any case, I find the first spot, and I'm trying to get up as far as I can to the edge of the adjoining driveway (there's a white stripe painted in the street so you know where to stop) in order not to take up two spots, a practice that never fails to piss me off when I see it, especially where spots are at a premium.
I'm a bit far forward, though, so I try backing up just a bit . . . SKRONTCH!! . . . wait a minute, who put that damn tree there? And how come I suddenly don't seem to have a passenger-side mirror any more?
I have to say, I felt not angry, but an overwhelming sense of relief. It looks like God in His wisdom ordained that I get in an accident today. I've been watching those Russian dash-cam vids lately, and I have to say, if I did have to hit something, let it be a tree rather than a person or another car, let me have been going not more than 3 MPH (in reverse), let the total damage be not more than $17.00 (because that's how much the replacement mirror cost when I ordered it on eBay), let it be my 25-year-old Chevy rustbucket rather than the leased 2011 Subaru. In short, thank God it wasn't worse. I think I got off easy.
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