A funny thing happened on the way home from the circus

I took The Boy and his best friend to the circus tonight with some other friends from church. We had a great time. I’m always amazed at what they can do, and that they are doing it really for no real reason than the enjoyment and entertainment of it. Does anyone really need to be able to twirl in the air by their ankles? No, but it’s pretty fun to watch.

It’s wasn’t the cheapest form of entertainment. Tickets were $18 for adults, $12 for kids under 12. Then there was the $7 popcorn, the $2 bottle of water, the $4 diet coke & pretzel combo pack, and the $12 souvenir light-up necklace that The Boy received for a reward for his “All A’s” report card (note the casual way in which I bragged on him right there).

My response to all of that is simple: It’s part of the experience. If you want to go and tell the kids, “Look, tickets were expensive, so we’re not going to get anything extra” I respect that. But for me, it’s like going to Disney. You spent enough to get in the door that you might as well enjoy it, and enjoying it means not complaining about $4 for fried dough.

Leaving the parking garage was the huge bottleneck you’d expect from an event where everyone is trying to leave at the same time. We were fortunate that they had someone directing traffic and helped us get out of our parking spot into the flow of exiting cars.

There were two exit lanes. I, of course, picked the wrong one. The one on the right was leading straight to the pay station. The one on the left was merging with traffic from the upper levels. That said, people were cooperating nicely: one from our row, one from the side, one from our row, one from the side. So when my turn came, I rolled down my window to gesture to the guy waiting to merge in that he could go in front of me. He rolled down his window and yelled “Thanks!” I smiled and said “You’re welcome” back.

He merged in and I started fumbling around with my wallet. Parking was a fairly cheap $3, cash only. I hoped I had exact change, but no such luck. I had a $5 and two $1s. I took out the $5 and put the rest back in my wallet. We inched ahead.

“I could make this go a little faster,” I thought, “if I paid for me and the guy behind me. Just hand the cashier $6 and tell her it’s for both of us.” I’ve occasionally done that at toll booths when the price is a set amount for everyone passing through.

Just as the thought occurred to me, the guy ahead of me paid and left, meaning it was my turn to pay. If I took the time to fish around for the extra $1, I’d probably not have saved anyone any time.

I pulled to the window and the cashier waved me through. “The guy ahead of you paid for you too. Have a nice night.”

I smiled, put the $5 back in my pocket, thanked her, and drove out.

Thanks, Random Other Guy. Someday I’ll pay it forward.