Saturday, November 19, 2005

The King of the Limestone Scepter

The leaves have fallen. Winter’s here. There’s so much beauty just outside my window as I type away in my office attempting to save the world one e-mail, one newsletter, and then one phone call at a time.

Fairly often I get sidetracked but I’ve been pretty regular in taking my special concoction of memory vitamins so most of the time I eventually get back to whatever it was I was sidetracked from. (Though on Tuesday I forgot to turn in a payment…but when I turned it in on Wednesday, well, they forgot to charge me a late fee so I suppose I’m not alone in my mental schizophrenia!)

What was I saying?

Oh, yeah, so I get side tracked. The other day I walked out of the office to go to a meeting and was surprised to see that my truck was parked right out front. (I never park out front.) I had thought for a second that some one had played a joke and moved my truck. Then my mind jumped to the realization that the only people that would do something like that either don’t have a spare key to my truck or they can’t drive a stick shift automobile. But then I thought that maybe some one really did because I saw a piece of paper stuck under my windshield wipers. I’m such a kid, I love it when people leave me notes! About 20 people went through my mind in quick succession as to who the note could be from. But it wasn’t from anyone I thought of. Even better, it was from someone I had really been wanting to get to know for the last couple months. This adorable old man who works across the street from me. I say adorable because he rides stately around the streets of Franklin in a small but steedly golf cart, cradling his chalk-tipped scepter as if parading the might of his noble position.

What was I saying?

Oh yes, my note. Well, as is the case with any one in any kind of higher position than my own, I must at some time or other pay my respects to the greatness of their station. Apparently the King of the Limestone Scepter saw fit to draw the line on my lack of dutiful obeisance and collect from me his rightful tribute…..So then I walked across the street and paid my $11 parking ticket.

THE END.

4 comments:

bonnie said...

Yes, I know about those 11.00 parking fines in Franklin. I got one outside of the tea room after Kelly's bridesmaid luncheon. I pleaded my case
when I sent in my $$ as being a foreigner!

Bonnie

Greg said...

Brilliantly written!

Rachel said...

My sister puts old parking tickets on her windshield to avoid new ones. Sort of a phyrric victory.

Amy said...

Brilliant! I love that idea...especially for downtown Franklin where the cops are out in mass at particular times of the month in order to fill their quota lest their butts are ritually busted by the higher beings of politic!