Okay, I have nothing in common with John Adams — except a pony tail and a wistful stare toward the Newport Bridge ... which he never saw. But at some point last week, I sat stopped at the toll booth on the far side of the bridge with my daughter. She's home on break from college, and I was taking her to a friend's house. One must cross a bridge to get anywhere when one lives on Aquidneck Island, or any island ... or just stay on the island ...
Yet for some reason that flimsy orange gate — the little wooden arm that keeps us from zipping too fast through the toll now that we have the luxury of EZPass (is there another word for that "little wooden arm," and why can't I think of it at this moment?) — didn't go up, and didn't go up, and didn't go up, and didn't go up ...
And just when I started to have steam coming out my ears at the ludicrousness of the situation, and how trapped I was (through no fault of my own), and as cars piled up behind us so reverse was no longer an option (adding embarrassment to frustration), I remembered that we were in a rental car. With no EZPass. I'd been in an accident a week or two before — I got rear-ended by Santa (long story) — and my car was still in the shop.
Fortunately, an orange-clad toll-booth attendant from one of the cash-only lanes recognized the situation — she must see it a hundred times per day — and rushed to our rescue. I had to dig (deep) into my coat pocket and hand over four dollars (four dollars!) to cross the bridge. One way. Me. A local. For whom it usually/magically (or however EZPass works) costs 83 cents ...
AARRGGHH! And there was only myself — and force of habit, and failing memory — to blame. I could/should have switched cars with Mr. Betty that morning. No biggie, in the big picture. Just an annoyance. On we went ... stopping for cash at an unfamiliar drive-up ATM along the way, where I forgot my pin number (!!) and had to pull out a different card, thus incurring a three dollar fee. What's happening to me?!?
I dropped my daughter at her friend's house without further incident and headed home ... remembering to use the cash-only lane, where I pulled a fresh twenty dollar bill from my pocket to pay yet another four dollars to go back across that beautiful beautiful bridge over the impossibly sparkly water of Narragansett Bay dotted with assorted islands (whose names I always forget) toward the familiar Newport skyline including Trinity and that lovely SLOTS sign (where Jai Alai used to be) and the clustered colonialism of the Point ...
Is there a point to this??
Not really. Except it cost eleven dollars to be reminded of how fortunate I am. And to say we're crossing the bridge again today — Mr. Betty, my daughter and I — to take said daughter back to college. The car is repaired; EZPass is in place. Packing is ongoing, but we'll make it. We'll stuff it all in — even the mini-fridge (stuffed with beer?), a gift from the older brother who graduated last year. We're ready.
Now if I can just stay calm, keep it in perspective, not blow things all out of proportion, I'll be fine. The fact is: I won't be here tomorrow. And that's not a sweeping statement of any sort other than a statement of fact. I won't be here tomorrow. I'll be at college. Moving the mini-fridge and requisite full-length mirror into a dorm room. Off-island. Across the bridge. Back on Friday ...
