Obstruction

No, I discovered as I halted behind it, another two cars behind me. Someone emerged from the truck. He tugged at the back door. The sign on the door read SPARROW KITCHENS. This was about to be a very large delivery.

There was a parked car to the right and another three to the left, leaving me trapped. But just beyond the car to the right: an expanse of empty space (enough for a truck!) and the corner, just a half block from the carpool line. I honked. The man at the back door glanced at me, then at the line of cars behind me, then shrugged.

For ten minutes, I sat there, the four-year-olds in the back making outraged noises in solidarity with my rising anger.

“We were going to be first, and now we’re going to be last!”