Question authority

There’s nothing worse than dealing with somebody who has just a little bit of authority.

You know what I mean – parking lot attendants, store security guards, school secretaries, etc. You give these people a little bit of authority, and they go on a power trip that would make Stalin seem meek.

If you’ve ever worked in an office environment, you know what I’m talking about. These secretaries – now often known as administrative professionals – can make your life easier if they’re competent, but can make you miserable if they’re incompetent. I’m stuck with the latter.

I turned in an expense report the other day from a trip. She brings my Holiday Inn invoice over and says, “What were the restaurant charges for?”

I said, “Food.”

She said, “Well, was it breakfast, lunch, dinner?”

I said, “Yes.”

I mean, what else could you buy at a hotel restaurant? Food is the only option. Hopefully the little account-Nazi got it all figured out without any further elaboration from me.

I admit, I do sort of bristle when I’m questioned by certain people, and perhaps I don’t handle things as diplomatically as possible. I generally hold my tongue when I’m dealing with a real policeman, except for the one time I got arrested, and we don’t want to talk about that right now, do we?

I remember once, when I was a younger man, and I went out with my friend Sam and a couple of others to celebrate Sam’s upcoming nuptials. Well, it was late in the evening, and we were at a hotel, and a member of our party decided he wanted to go out and visit a house of entertainment, so he called a cab. But the poor guy was really tired from all the bobbing for apples and hide-and-seek and Bible studying we had done at the bachelor party, so he fell asleep before the cabbie got there.

The cabbie was not happy when he arrived and learned there was not to be a passenger, so he demanded we pay him for his inconvenience. We said no. So he showed up later at our door with an officer of the law, who demanded to know what was going on. This guy was in uniform, and acting really official as he tried to ascertain the facts of the matter.

Then I noticed my friend Sam staring at the officer intently, and he asked him, “Excuse me, are you a real police officer?” The guy sort of bowed up and said, “I’m a Cobb County Park Ranger. You got a problem with that?” No, we allowed, we didn’t have a problem with that, but since we weren’t illegally using a picnic table or shooting turkeys out of season, we figured we were out of his jurisdiction, and we went back inside the hotel room and shut the door and had a good laugh.

The good times ended a few minutes later when another knock came on the door. This time we were greeted by the jilted cabbie, the hotel manager, Ranger Smith and one annoyed-looking Marietta policeman, who worked out a compromise: we gave the cabbie $5, and we didn’t get arrested.

I believe the popular phrase in the ’60s was “Question Authority”, which is fine, unless that authority has the power to arrest you or kick you out of their house (in case my kids are reading this). In that case, just keep it to yourself.