News flash for the season: I know how Ebeneezer Scrooge came to be, well, Scrooge. One day, maybe Dec. 21, he had a one-hour time frame and was out shopping for Christmas gifts, and he decided he needed a Starbucks latte. He pulled into the parking lot – a poorly designed parking lot, but a parking lot nevertheless – and saw that the drive-through line was really long. A couple of parking spots were open in the lot, and, taking a chance, he pulled into one. He realized that should someone pull into the drive-through behind him, he could be trapped until the cows came home. But the bad parking spot was his only option, unless he wanted to be late from then on.
He went inside, ordered his coffee, and, keeping a watch out, saw that the parking lot had mostly cleared out. So he went outside, unlocked the car door, and put one foot into the driver’s area. Right then, as if it had been deviously planned, an SUV pulled into the drive-through lane. The driver must have seen that Scrooge was getting into the car, getting ready to leave with his double shot one pump skinny vanilla latte. And yet, she pulled into the line, effectively blocking Scrooge from leaving.
Scrooge approached the SUV and pleasantly asked, “Would you mind backing up a little so I can get out?” The SUV driver glanced haughtily and dismissively at Scrooge, and sniffed and shrugged. “I guess.” Then, interfering with no other driver, not even having to check twice over her right shoulder, she backed up. Scrooge extricated himself from the lot, and smiled and nodded at the SUV driver as he exited the parking lot. The other driver turned her face away and ignored the smile. “Is that the Christmas spirit? Bah, humbug!,” Scrooge harrumphed, as he made it out of the parking lot, into the left turn lane, and to Highway 50, where he grumpily continued on his way.
Scrooge’s gas gauge was moving quickly toward empty. He made his way toward the closest gas station and turned in before he realized that two of the gas nozzles had yellow bags over them – out of order. He couldn’t maneuver himself around to get to another pump; his gas tank was on this side, and people were already waiting in line for the other working pumps. Oh, well. The woman behind whom Scrooge waited was fueling her car; this wouldn’t take too long. “Yes,” Scrooge thought, “there she goes, taking the nozzle out of her tank, putting it back in the pump, and…” She didn’t get in the car.
She went into the store, presumably to pay, and so Scrooge remained patient for a few minutes longer – three minutes, to be exact. Then the woman lollygagged over to the car, got in, started the engine, and promptly disappeared. She was leaning over to the passenger’s seat. Then she changed direction, leaning over the driver’s side door, obviously looking for something. Scrooge looked at the clock. For four-and-a-half minutes, the driver of the car that had a full gas tank sat in the car at the gas pump looking for something. Scrooge began fuming. “Well, Merry Christmas to you, too! Bah, Humbug! Humbug, I say!”
Finally, the woman found what she was looking for and drove away, leaving the gas pump to another deserving customer. Scrooge, now truly hot under the collar, pulled up to the pump and began fueling his car.
He was able to make his next appointment on time, but his mood had soured because of the lack of consideration he had experienced over the previous hour. “Christmas is a humbug!,” he kept saying.
And that is how Scrooge came to be Scrooge.
Fortunately, the Christmas spirit is bigger than a grumpy Starbucks patron or a thoughtless gas station customer. I got my shopping done, attended my meeting on time, and made it home safely. But I will be carefully monitoring my actions from now through Christmas to make sure to, like Scrooge, keep Christmas in my heart for not only me, but also for those around me.
Merry Christmas! Really.
