Saturday 11/08/2008 01:20:00 AM

I'd just gotten an oil change for my yaris. They always try to tell me to go away. 'The first oil change for this car isn't for 5,000 miles.'

This isn't the first oil change i say. Laughing.

If I go back and count, it's the fifth. The lazy and the anti-social are truly friends of the environment.

They checked the tire pressure and topped off the various fluids. Route 88 was pretty quiet. We were heading for target. To determine the median price of coffee. It's up there with gasoline. And illegally harvested human organs.

Something went wrong. Some one tried to make a left at the intersection of Duquesne and Route 70 while someone else wanted to go straight. Traffic was Republican all the way back on Chambersbridge. Trickle down. Lots of honking. No one getting any place.

I turned off into the shopping center. Thinking I could avoid the backup. Same thing. All locals this time of year. We all had the same plan. We were all shocked when it was just as congested to reach the alternate exit.

I gave up and parked. Headed for the Kohl's. No coffee there, but at least it wasn't idling. I hate that incessant switching from brake to accelerator. Just let me go. Or keep me in place. Just come out and admit it. Am I going anywhere?

They had us all lined up at the Kohl's. They added extra checkers. The economy would see a windfall for some one's traffic accident. The whole shopping center was Bedlam. Shop or sit in your car. They had drug out the bank style customer line enhancers. They had a gestapo lady instructing us on when to move to the next available register.

All in all I was fine with it. No one cut in line. Everything moved rather quickly. Say what you will about communism, but it has its finer points. Especially when there's chaos not too far away.

I know communism only works in theory and not in practice. You'd just never know it standing in that line.

A couple of five dollar hand towels later the roads were clear, but I didn't feel much like going anywhere.

** creds to RukSak for making me consider the mundane as viable material for the sublime. **

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