Perhaps I Have Elevated This Banal-Nugget...

and perhaps it will resonate, too, with some of you:

So, I get to the gas station, and I walk in, and it's kinda busy. There's two registers open – a pretty long line on one side, just one dude over on the other. And that's always a red flag right there, I know, cause they're always havin some kinda problem or they're complainin or whatever, but I go over there behind him anyway. I'll try my luck. Sure as shit, he's buyin lottery tickets. He's that guy, buyin one after the other, scratchin em off right at the counter—cause he keeps winnin or whatever—like he's teachin a clinic, holding Lotto-Court over here, but really he's just wastin pretty much everybody's time. I've only been waitin there for like a minute when good ole Lotto Bro gets some bad news, and he doesn't take it all that well. There's not enough money in this register, so he's gotta go around to the other side to cash out and wait in the long-ass line he's more or less solely responsible for. And I'll tell ya, it was beautiful—like poetic justice, I mean—cause when I step up and buy my cigarettes, I can see him shakin his head over there, all surly. He just can't believe he's gotta wait, and I'm thinking, Yeah, it's just not fair is it, Guy? The Inconveniencer becomes the Inconvenienced. That's poetic justice, right?