I committed my first act of blatant, outright cruelty with my cell phone jammer this morning. I’m afraid I’m becoming drunk with all this power I have over the cell phone frequencies on my train. Perhaps the 60+ hour work weeks are getting to me. I’ve been a bit thin-skinned recently.
Apparently, the chatty young gentleman in front of me parked his car in the train lot but was unable to pay the parking fee because the meter didn’t take dollar bills and he had no coins. He was desperately trying to give his friend directions to where his car was parked so the money could be deposited. The meter police patrol the lot quite frequently, so it was only a matter of time until a summons was issued. It’s hard to convey which spot number your car is in (it was 62, by the way) when your phone keeps cutting out.
I don’t know why I didn’t just let him give out the pertinent information and then cut off his call if he started chatting about who was booted off American Idol. I’ve been working so much over the past few weeks that I’m not getting the proper amount of sleep and I’m a bit bitchy. I miss my family and I resent the amount of hours I’m required to work. I took it out on some poor sap who couldn’t pay the parking meter fee. That wasn’t very nice of me.
What is this strange sensation I’m feeling? It’s like a gnat buzzing around my ear. Is this guilt? A conscience rearing its ugly head? God, I hope not. What an inconvenience that would be!