The Library, the Car Wash and Traffic Jams

Today I emerged from my virus-induced, winter-funk exile. After sequestering myself away for much of the last 10 days, I broke out to rejoin the real world. First stop? The library. I couldn't pull in the fire zone for a quick ditch of what I needed to return because two other people were already defying the posted "no stopping or unloading sign," so I resigned myself and headed for the parking lot where I was delighted to find a mini traffic jam.

The only place it would be better to find a traffic jam would be church. I love that enough people are coming to the library that we have to wait our turn to park. Despite the extreme temperatures over the last few weeks, the library parking lot is always well-occupied, which speaks volumes about the importance of the library to our community. Job seekers using the computers, preschoolers enjoying story time, friends meeting over books, the lady in the wheelchair with her therapy dog browsing the DVDs ... there really is something for everyone at the library. And our library is well-used and well-loved.

But back to the traffic jam. Usually, I would be annoyed by having to wait for the little old man in the pick-up trying for the second (third?) time to pull into his space. His efforts were challenged by the family in the van next to him trying to get out of their vehicle and he was preventing the vehicle across the aisle from backing out. Today, though, I wasn't annoyed. I think I was happy to be out in the sunshine, glad there was traffic in the library lot and smiling because the little old man reminded me of my grandfather in his little pick-up (who likely caused a traffic jam or two in his time). I just cranked up Sara Bareilles' "Brave" and enjoyed the interruption.

My last stop today was the car wash, which was where I ran into my second traffic jam. Vehicles were lined up for the automatic car wash. There were some brave souls using the self-serve bays, but I prefer waiting in the warmth of my car with my book. So I inched my way toward the goal and 29 minutes later, I had a clean vehicle. Time well-spent. And time enough to ponder this sign:

How comforting to read such a sign when you're trapped in a car wash bay with heavy, automated machinery beating all around you and you have a vivid imagination that can easily envision possible malfunctions and ensuing disaster. When I think "trouble" in the car wash, I'm not sure it's going to be helpful (or quick) to call an 800 number if there's a real emergency.

Being a "safety first" kind of girl, I looked for those emergency buttons. As I looked, I wondered how I would dodge the machinery to get to the buttons and if they would even work and if I could figure them out if I did find them. (My stream of consciousness is something to behold.) All that wondering was for naught, because I never did see those emergency buttons. But you can be sure the next time I sit in the car wash traffic jam, I'll keep looking. Or maybe I'll just hope "Brave" is on the radio and crank it up.