The Good Space

Having been bound by a geis long ago, David Higgleson needed to park close to the front of wherever he went or a horrible doom would befall him, much as happened to Cuchulainn whose geasa to never eat dog meat and to always accept hospitality doomed him when he was forced to accept a dog meat dinner. But what could David do? He had wanted to see Red Eyed Monster play in concert for years, and there wasn't a parking space to be found anywhere by the time he arrived to the sold out show. Low on gas and half way through his tenth circuit around the massive parking lot, David came to a startling, life changing realization. His geis only demanded he park close to the front. It never said he needed a parking space. A two hundred dollar parking ticket, plus towing expenses was a lot better than downfall, doom, and death, he reasoned. Finding the closest spot to the doors he could, he maneuvered his car like a champ and made his way to the show.

He was not the least bit surprised when he found a parking ticket on his windshield after the concert, for such was the trade off for staying alive. He was, however, a little pleased with the note written by the cop who left the ticket, in which he praised David for parallel parking between those two trees like a real pro.

- Originally mailed to J. St. John of Picayune, Mississippi

Counting Palettes

The Crate and Palette, a shipping store, first opened their doors for business, there was one question they had never thought to ask. When receiving a shipment of palettes, does one count the palette the palettes come on? It seemed logical that one would. After all, why add an extra palette and the extra shipping weight just to create a flat surface to stack goods on? After all, the product itself was a flat surface for stacking and shipping goods. Naturally they took it on good faith that when nine palettes arrived stacked on a palette that their order of ten palettes had been fulfilled. A quick call to their supplier confirmed the practice. Then other products started to come in. The crates came on their own palette, as did the boxes and bubble wrap, and as far as they could tell, those palettes didn't need to be purchased or even requested. Further, though they ordered ten palettes, only the top nine were new. Having been used for shipping, the bottom palette was often scuffed and sometimes broken, and thus couldn't be sold as a new palette with the rest of them. It was obvious their distributor had been ripping them off. However, after some number crunching, management at The Crate and Palette decided to let it go, for though they were getting cheated out of a new palette, gently used ones sold for only ten percent less, and with the free palettes that came with the crates and boxes and bubble wrap, they turned a higher profit than they might if they confronted their supplier and risked having him ship their goods using some other medium of transportation.

- Originally mailed to M. Bennett from Plano, Texas

Alzheimer's Trucker

 

Wendy Phillips had been with United Shipping for thirty seven years by the time she developed Alzheimer's disease. The diagnosis devastated the small company. They couldn't let her go. She was one of the first five employees. She had an amazing driving record. She'd run the same route for fifteen years. Her customers knew her, loved her, trusted her. She was practically family. Even so, these days she would often forget where she was going and all the perishable goods in the trailer ran a very real risk of spoiling. What could they do?

But where there is adversity coupled with people who love and support one another, there is hope. Her friends, co-workers, and clients set tracked her route down to her parking space. Then, over the course of a week, they vandalized road signs across the tri-state area. Words, phrases, sentences, all spray painted along her route so that should she have an episode, she could still make her way to where she needed to be.

“Exit here, Wendy.”

“This is the path we take.”

“Park here and honk four times.”

When she arrived at her stops, she didn't always know what was going on, but those around her did, and they always made sure she had warm food, good company, and a place to stay until she became lucid again.

- Originally mailed to C. Procenko from Toronto, Ontario in Canada.