Three brief stories

One
During my sophomore year in college, my sorority worked a day at the local amusement park as a fundraiser.  Before the park opened, our supervisors asked several of us to test ride the Orient Express, a zinger of a loop-de-loop roller coaster.  We rode it once.  When that ride came to the end, instead of stopping, the coaster slowed a bit and then kept going for another round... and another... and another.  We rode through at least five times without stopping.  By the end, I was thinking "Get me off of this thing!!!"

The Orient Express.  It's since been razed to make way for another ride.

Two
About a month ago, I dropped the carpool off at school and headed to a doctor's appointment arriving about thirty minutes early.  It was too early to run a decent errand (and most places weren't open yet), so I decided to pop into the McDonald's across the street, pick up a coffee and sit in my van reading until the appointment time.  It was a warm and sunny fall morning and I had a great book with me.  I was looking forward to it.


While parking at McDonalds, I remembered I owed my mom a quick phone call and decided to give her a ring her before going in.  I chatted with her for a moment when suddenly the car door next to me slammed forcefully into my passenger side door.  I glared fiercely at the man with the meanest "What the..." look I could muster.  I jumped out of the van, hurried around and examined my passenger door.  No damage thankfully, though I don't know how.


Then the man started yelling at me.  


He was around seventy.  He had a bumper sticker on his car saying, "You cannot be Catholic and pro-choice."


"You parked right on top of me!" he yelled.


I looked down at the line dividing his space and mine, his car and mine. All of my van was at least six inches within the divider's inside edge. Could I have parked further away from his car? Sure. But I was well within the line.


I pointed this out.  He just kept yelling at me.  His friend got out of the car and stood behind it saying nothing.  A McDonald's employee taking her smoking break by the dumpsters watched from the distance.


The conversation didn't last long.  I can't remember what I said.  At some point, the words "not appropriate behavior" came out of my mouth, the sort of thing I might say to my children.  


I didn't back down, though, and I didn't explode either.  In the past, I might have jumped back in my car and driven away avoiding the whole conflict.  


Instead, I argued briefly, but firmly, calmly.  Then I walked in and ordered my coffee.  The man and his friend ordered coffee at the register next to me.  I told my cashier that I would like to buy their coffee too. The disgruntled man looked shocked, at sea for a moment.  Then he mumbled that they had already paid.


We all walked out at the same time, using different doors, each of us with coffee in hand.  I got in my car.  They got in their car.  And I drove away. 


Three
A decade ago, our church decided to change denominational affiliations. This decision involved much agonized thought and prayer by our pastor and the church leadership.  The decision was far from easy, but for a variety of reasons, it was the best and most honest one.  


The denominational leadership was livid.  They retaliated with cunning and thorough vehemence.  They immediately distributed a letter to all denominational members in the region demonizing the decision.  The letter was full of half-truths.  The implied conclusions were lies.


Our pastor was devastated.  He had grown up in that denomination and in many ways, still loved it.  He had wanted to part amicably, with integrity.


But I thought, even if we might have doubted the decision beforehand, seeing how the denominational leadership behaved in response only served to confirm -- to underline and boldface -- the rightness of our decision.