The wonderful smugness of superiority

Admission: I am not so superior that I do own not a car. In fact I have a financial interest in three motorized vehicles. It came to my attention recently that one of these vehicles needed new tags. The first thing I did was concoct an intensely complicated plan that involved switching cars among every family member, time tables with no more than a split second of discrepancy and financial transactions that would constipate a Nigerian e-mail scammer. So after I forgot the car-switch part yesterday morning — and that was the linchpin of the plan — I decided to simply ride to the DMV license plate office. Not only did I get to cycle down Walnut Street (Cary's equivalent of the most hideous road wherever you live), I — here's where the smugness and superiority come in — parked my bike inside the office while I waited to pay my $33. It's probably better for me that the clerk acted as if every person who pays his or her fee does so after wheeling a bike into the office. I understand. After all, I've had to stay cool in analogous situations myself.