Fast Lane

Ten years ago, when I first divided my life between the eastern capital of our state and its second city in the middle, I was given the new, efficiency promoting gadget of a Fast Lane pass. Granted, my commute at that time was going against the traffic, but I did giggle with impish delight when I skirted passed the long lines waiting to deposit change in the toll booths.

Then I moved to another country and didn’t need my car. So it sat in a drawer waiting for me to come back Stateside. But I changed cars… and really didn’t divide my life as much at that point. So it really wasn't necessary.

Well… now I have a few things pulling me back to the central county. Even though I’ve made the trek west on numerous occasions in the past six years and actually prefer Rte. 9 to the high speed turnpike. More opportunities to stop for a coffee. More lights to brake and charge my hybrid battery. Not a toll to pay for the distance I can travel for free. Well… recently, I got a little impatient… and thought I was contributing to inefficiency by sitting and waiting to cough up my stray quarters.

So I got a new plastic box to go under my mirror. I confess I have taken the Pike more because the novelty of whizzing through the quicker lane is still fresh. I don’t have to roll down my window and let in the cold air or turn down the radio in the midst of a song I love. But… you know… the other night as I returned post midnight from a birthday celebration, I was thinking how impersonal my Turnpike journey was. Granted, my interaction usually consists of a thank you – but some of those cashiers are actually quite friendly. As I turned onto 128, I relished the warm air in my car… but missed the warm smile of another human being.

I took another trip last night – in the midst of the evening commute. So I did appreciate this ease. But… I remembered my weekend lament. Am I really making things better by hard-wiring myself?

Well, okay. If more of us use the little plastic box, it eliminates the need for man power to take change. I know a lot of people who think that job is a joke. Maybe… but, I wouldn’t want it. In the cold. Dealing with some extraordinarily RUDE people, not to mention STUPID people. And like I said, I find most of them are rather pleasant. But still… one less person to pay means… less money for the state, the evil government to spend.

Right.

Sort of.

Not right.

Maybe I am biased in all this. Because I grew up in a family where several people I love are employed by the state. Were their jobs completely necessary? I don’t know. I like to think so. I like to think they aren’t wasteful government spending. These people take a lot of pride in what they do. And they do a lot more than what they actually get paid for. Yes, there are some benefits to working for the state. But let me tell you something, job security is most definitely NOT one of them. And yes, there are some idiots who misuse their positions. But, come on, how is that different from any other workplace?

Wait… wasn’t this about Fast Lane? Yeah… yeah, it was. It was about me thinking how if more people decided to go the electric route, there would be less need for people to make change. That would mean more efficiency. And less… smiles.

Are smiles worth the budget deficit? I’m not sure. I do know I go into Bank of America now and they tell us to use the ATM for deposits and regular bank business. Discouraging anyone from wanting to deal with a teller because the line to get to those people is so freaking long. Is that… improvement? Is that making a better world of capitalism? I use my ATM card all the bloody time. It is easy. It is convenient. It is a teller who loses his job. And an executive who gets a bonus.

Am I going to stop using my newly attached Fast Lane now? Probably not – at least not before the end of February. And even then… well, I don’t stop myself from using the ATM. But… see, I realize that I’m part of the problem. Even if it is just a miniscule fraction of a contribution.  Because I decide my ease and speed are more valuable than someone else’s job. Because I would rather isolate myself from human interaction to make a transaction go more quickly. And that… makes me feel a little bit icky.