poetic justice part two

i drove a short charter to the woodbury commons shopping outlet, a nightmare of gross proportions that draws shoppers from the entire northeast (and world too, apparently, noticing the throngs of Asian speakers) to park their SUVs in a frenzy of consumerism, wildly swinging their DKNY, Gap and Saks Fifth Avenue shopping bags into your knees as you pass them. its not like the place is small, but its crowded, even at 11 in the morning. and no one likes to apologise for bruising your knees either. but on to the point... i found a parking spot, wondering how well it was going to go over with security. a rent a cop patrol passed and didn't stop. fine, i thought, maybe this will work out fine. enter the harriman town police... i thought that he would say something about the parking spot, so i asked if it were ok to park here. i have no idea, but would you follow me to a DOT inspection across the street? now, a DOT inspection is a common thing, especially for truckers, they get weighed and safety equipment is checked, lights, brakes, the whole nine... and common for buses too, but not as common. and this was my first one, (and the first of the day, he confessed...) and so it felt like a little bit like being led in front of the spanish inquisition, not knowing what to expect. would i have to prove my innocence? my faith to the bus drivers credo and to our patron saint, ralph kramden? i wasn't sure. it turned out to be about an hour long inspection with a couple of DOT employees who also confessed that this was their first bus inspection...(sort of like a priest who absolves you on your deathbed telling you also that he never had his communion, you wonder how worthwhile this absolution will be...) but they were alright guys, one of them lived nearby to me. but i did feel an odd sense of being on public examination. it was in a school parking lot and was being viewed by a large group of students with not much else to do but lean against the wire mesh fencing on a saturday and in full view of the main road next to the shopping plaza and accompanying all of this were a continually rotating assortment of harriman town police and state police prowlers...
i was passing with flying colours, brake lights, turn signals, low air warning buzzer, good looking engine and good looking bus, it was an xl2 after all... hey waitaminute, i don't have akey for this door yet. oh well, shouldn't be a problem. right? and then i am asked to open the auxillary door on the drivers side that masks electronics and the steering linkage. its locked. its locked and try as i might it isn't going to budge. i have a poorly cut key, see, sometimes works, sometimes doesn't. they understand, but still have to flunk the bus. flunking a DOT exam can be grounds for immediate out of service status for a bus and its driver depending on the severity of the problems found. this was minor and surprisingly well met and understood by the DOT guys. i suppose the company wouldn't have been too happy to have to drive another bus down to pick my group up if i had been put out of service, but it did fit the poetic justice category nicely. there is of course paperwork for them to fill out to that great beurocracy in albany and the bus was indeed out of service when it reached the garage until the red tape could be cut through. oh and i did get a newly cut key a week later.