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As hard as I've tried, I can't seem to get my husband to observe simple rules that would make his life a whole lot easier. Let me rephrase that. It would make MY life a whole lot easier because he is absolutely incorrigible!
Several summers ago, Mel visited a university, which I will not name (but it's in College Station), to meet with some folks in their business department about structuring a prospective agribusiness. They had sent him a map, with instructions for locating the building and where to come. He arrived back home that afternoon hopping mad.
"You ain't gonna b'lieve whut Ah'm about to tell you," he said, tossing the car keys on the table with a clang.
Uh-oh, I thought. They must have called off the meeting without informing him.
"Nope," he said, when I asked if that was the case. "Ah found the raht buildin' an' th' meetin' went jist fahn. Ah actually got thur raht on tahm. Thur wuz a empty parkin' lot raht across the street, about 40 acres an' not a soul anywhur. Totally empty. Man, I thought, whut a deal. Usually it's covered up. So Ah jist drove up in the closest spot to the door an' went in. 'Bout 15 to 20 minutes into the meetin', this young secretary run in all excited an' asked, `Mr. Robinson, is that your white Buick across the street?' Ah told her it probably wuz, since that wuz the only car out thur when Ah come in. She said, `You are parked in Dr. So-and-so's space. He is terribly upset, and he wants his parking spot.' Ah told her to tell him to find 'im another un. `But that one has his name on it. It's HIS parking spot,' she said. 'You've got to move your car.' Ah said Ah ain't gonna move mah car when thur's plenty more spots."
"What did that poor girl do?" I asked.
Mel shrugged. "She wanted to know if Ah keered if she moved it, so Ah pitched 'er the keys."
"You're reprehensible," I said.
Mel stiffened. "Well, it wuz jist plumb ridiculous. Jist some bigshot exercisin' his clout. Not a reason atall to make a federal case out of it.Lahk Ah said, thur wuz hunnerds o' empty spaces an' he had his overalls all twisted over one li'l ol' bitty spot that had his name on it."
"You are something else. That's reserved parking. If he took someone else's spot, then he would be asked to move his vehicle," I said.
"Thur wuz plenty o' spots with nobody's name wrote on 'em. You'd thank he'd be more hospitable to a visitor..."
A few days later, Mel walked in with the day's mail. He ripped open a letter and said, "Wud you b'lieve thur tryin' to fahn me fer parkin' in that uppety professor's spot?"
My eyebrows met. "I've been warning you that your disregard for rules is going to get you in trouble. How much is it going to cost you?"
"Not one dahm," Mel vowed, scrawling something on the letter and sticking back in the self-addressed envelope to the college.
"What in the world have you done now?" I asked.
Mel smiled. "Well, they said if Ah didn't pay the fahn, they wudn't gonna release mah grades, so Ah jist politely told 'em whut they cud do with 'em."
