Pride and Punishment

I got off at the wrong stop today on my way home from work. I was supposed to get off at the American Fork park-and-ride, but unfortunately, I got off at the Lehi park-and-ride. Now this wouldn’t be so bad except the bus was still in the parking lot when I noticed my egregious error. But a strange pet peeve of mine is running after a bus. If I drive up to the bus stop, and the bus is there almost ready to pull out, I refuse to get out of my car, and run like a turkey trying to catch the bus. So running after the very bus that I so mistakenly exited seemed completely out of the question. So I stood there, nodded at the bus driver as he passed, acting as if I was waiting to cross the street to my car, and watch my mode of transportation drive off into freeway-dom.

No worries, there should be another bus in the next 15, 20… okay 30 minutes. But as I sat in the violent wind and freezing rain, I thought to myself is it worth it? Is the pride worth it? I mean my only shelter is this thin plexi-glass shelter that works more as a wind tunnel than a shelter and the wind was particularly violent, I was like in a mosh pit with Mother Nature, it literally would push my around. I mean, it was strictly pride that stood between me; and the warm, muggy but comparatively cozy bus. As I thought about me freezing in the rain, and me turkey sprinting towards the leaving bus I realized, the pride is totally worth it. No way am I gong to be that guy.

So with pinked ears, runny nose, and numb fingers and toes, I waited. It seemed like a long time, but another bus eventually showed up. I was able to get on the bus, with my pride nicely tucked away, intact in my leather messenger bag, ready to get to my car. Well at least until I had exchange several salutations with several guys I knew from work.