Sitting in a queue waiting for my turn to fuel the vehicle, a spot opened. Not being the next in queue, I waited for the old couple in the vehicle ahead to fill the empty slot. Old people, by nature, are slow, and before they could grasp the beckoning slot waiting for their vehicle to comfortably penetrate, an impatient woman from another queue jumped across and filled the gap. I quietly sat and watched, planning.

Usually, I would have some choice advice for a woman who would car-block an old couple like that, then I realized that as I was queued behind the old couple, she was stealing time from me as well! And though I can assume I have more time than the slow moving ancients, who knows. The woman needed a bite of sound advice.

Thinking of what to say to the offender that fit the crime, I watched her pump gas while she talked to her young children in the back seat younger than one would have expected for a woman with her worn face. Her body was closely observed as it was unexpectedly firm, with fancy floating frontage struggling to stay under the tiny bit of clothing she wore. Perhaps if she had spent less on her sparkling SUV or fancy floating frontage, she could afford a full shirt and shorts, but pieces of clothing were apparently all her budget allowed. I then realized what I would say.

It was difficult to admit, but with what I had encountered in my current incarnation, I could care less about the line jumper. I did not feel like saying anything. I heard the old man grumbling and would have backed his voice of reprimand, but he just wanted to loudly grumble to his wife and stare at the fancy floating frontage. If he was to have nothing to say, I had nothing to say. I had to admit, I did not really care. The hand of fate would have to take care of this one without my assistance. (Perhaps I was too mesmerized by the fancy floating frontage.)

While the SUV filled, she gathered juice boxes, candy wrappers and other trash from about her children and threw it away, avoiding eye contact with the old couple or anyone else who saw her little maneuver. It was clear that this was how she did life, with an apparent misunderstanding of the consequences.

I smiled as she finished pumping her gas, jumped in the car and sped away, knowing that at some point when she least expected it, fate would intervene. Fortunately for me, fate offered a front row seat.

Being in such a hurry, she zipped quickly out of the station and jumped into the street, where she encountered a truck whose driver was also in a hurry. The two met with a loud, mangling, crunch. Alas, as with her cutting off the old couple, I did not really care.

People stopped in traffic; people ran from their cars in the station; people came from the sidewalk; all because the did not know her, but wanted to help. I figure fate just took her to where she was headed.

With the fancy floating frontage, I am sure she is fine. Then again, does one truly care? Sometimes doing good is simply letting things be as they are...and you can count on fate being a vindictive bastard.