A Poetic Life :: Rethink Everything

Confessions of a Toll Booth Cashier

There is more than just change happening at the Georgia 400 Toll Plaza

Introduction: Toll Booth Virgin

One of the first things I realized once I started working at the Georgia 400 toll Plaza

was that in many ways my experiences there would be metaphoric of the journey that is life. I am told that over 3 million vehicles come through the toll Plaza each month, and who knows how many of those faces I see. What I do know is that with each face there’s an expression and behind every expression there’s a story that their energy is telling and although they come and go they leave behind their dwelling. This is the story that is worth telling; it is one that over these past few months has taught me so very much. Tossing quarters is simple enough, but what this has been is a front row seat in a sociology class that has been really tough. For the first couple months the toll booth virgin was me, and Oh my God I can’t believe some of the things that my eyes have shown me, and on goes the story.

Don’t you wish you went to school instead of being out here tossing quarters? This rhetorical question asked of by someone making an assumption about the cashier’s education level shows that the look of judgment is sometimes as stated.

T h e L o o k o f J u d g m e n t

There is no harsher judge of us than he whose reflection lies in our own mirror. Although I have the pleasure of being a citizen of these United States, I spent a significant part of my childhood living in the British Virgin Islands with my grand parents whose love and affection wasn’t as present as their displeasure and judgment. So I’m very familiar with the look of judgment, after all I spent years looking at my self and my life through those eyes. Through those eyes all I could see was a self I didn’t want to be and a life I didn’t want to live.

    Today after turning self hatred into hope and finding a purpose for my pain, I no longer look at my self or my life through the eyes of judgment or those of shame. And because this is true, I can stand in the face of judgment and take his 50 cents and be undefined by his thoughts concerning my lack of worth or his looks that suggest it equates to dirt; Or his question – Are you going to pick that up? Because he dropped his 50 cents outside the bin, too busy pitying the state he perceives I’m in.
    The look or the ways of judgment are no strangers to me, but I stand strong in the faces of judgment driving through these lanes everyday because of the self reflection I see which their car windows display. It is now one of non judgment I am happy to say. I am not perfect in my own eyes and I never wish to be, but I am learning to see myself and others through Gods eyes as the process of growth continues in me. When I see the eyes of judgment looking back at me, I think not in terms of race because I don’t define myself or another by the color of their face.

What I see however is a human being blinded by an illusion supported by a system of paradigms built on mistruths and stereotypes, therefore locking them into a conclusion that is incorrect. I am hardly hurt by their inability to see me correctly for a brief moment in time. The thought that lingers with me, is how tragic it would be, if they lived their whole lives without ever being free from the prison of their own paradigms. Often it is what we do to ourselves not others that are the worst of our crimes.

You’re driving through the Georgia 400 toll plaza and the cashier informs you that the driver in front of you paid your way and said have a nice day. What do you do?

(A) Look at the cashier like they have 3 heads

(B) Throw your 50 cents in anyway and pay for your self twice.

(D) Just look at the cashier and smile because you don’t understand English. You are an illegal alien who just hopes that’s not the police in your rear view mirror.

(E) Say thank you and pass it on.

View results of this poll after you cast your vote on the bottom of the home page.

P a y i n g I t B a c k w a r d s

I’ve been a car enthusiast long before I understood that some people use cars as symbols of status. From where I sit in the toll booth as a cashier at the Georgia 400 Toll Plaza, I recognize the marquee of many automobiles before I can see their drivers. While the emblem may speak to the class of the car, it says nothing about the class of the person or persons in it. I so often wished that classy cars came with classy people, and maybe their owners do too. While money can buy class in cars, it cannot buy class in you.

What sets people apart is not the nature of their cars but the nature of their hearts. I’m always moved by those who say “pay for the person behind me” with an energy that finds me wanting to explore the depth of people’s kindness which inspires others to do more. Every now and then someone pays their toll with a five or a ten and says pass it on my friend, and I get the joy of using their change to make a change in someone else’s day. I get to enjoy the surprise of unsuspecting commuters as they discover that someone else has paid their way and I love to see how it so often makes their day. It’s not about the 50 cents but about uncommon kindness that defies the logic of common sense.

There are those who believe it or not, just don’t get it; they don’t understand why someone would want to pay their way. “I don’t know them and they don’t know me” they would say. Instead of just saying thank you, they miss the message and the opportunity to pass it on; but I never miss the message for it is one I intimately know. I will never forget the day when a lady got out of the back of her grandsons car to look me in the eyes to tell me she didn’t have the toll fee, as I saw and felt the depth of her honesty I told her “it’s on me”, and what a spectacle she made at the toll as she gave me a hug that left an impression on my soul. First class people may not always drive up in first class cars, and they may not always be able to pay the toll but I am careful to recognize and respect them no matter what they drive up in, because what they drive up as is a first class soul.

Is it rude to make a request of someone before you acknowledge the someone you’re making the request from? Apparently many folks traveling through the Georgia 400 Toll Plaza don’t think so.

A R e c e i p t P l e a s e

The question that is most often asked by the commuters passing through the Georgia 400 Toll Plaza everyday is one that is often asked without the acknowledgment of the toll booth cashier behind the window. The person that is expected to reach for falling quarters while taking a strangers orders. It is a question that represents many, and it is one which I think about as I count each and every filthy penny. I count the many dollar bills that are so badly worn, like my emotions that inspire the questions between which I am so badly torn. Questions like: ‘why was I born?’ Certainly not to be scorned for making an honest living, or to be a servant for customers who believe they are always right, but they stand in the wrong shoes to see the light.

Can I have a receipt? It is the question often asked with condescending undertones to which I often do not reply. If manners were like a drink of water or a breath of fresh air, I’d have as much luck as a pilgrim in a desert hoping to find them there. Yet it is the quest of every pilgrim on a journey to be seen as someone worthy in a world that may not be quite convinced, we want a receipt for something more than 50 cents. We want a receipt for the hopes our hearts hold. We are people that matter! We have stories that go untold, and dreams we dare not speak of for the fear of what someone might say; who are we to want more out of life for debts that we pay?

A receipt is an acknowledgment of where we’ve come from and where we hope to go. It says that you have paid your dues which you hope to recoup someday, and you should be able to live the life you choose. That is what our tears travel down our faces to say, as we work for all these bills we have to pay. And the dream is that one day; there will no longer be an outstanding balance, a day where we get paid not for our warm bodies but our talents. This is the dream of many hard working Americans everyday, to live for the work they love, so that they will never have to work another day. A receipt please, that is what is due as we continue to work to make our dreams come true.

Myths, Facts and Solutions @ the GA 400 Toll Plaza

Myth: Holding your horn for extended periods of time gets you quicker service.

Fact: You’re more likely to be ignored as you make a fool of your self in front of other drivers.

Solution: Consider actually behaving like a human being, get out of your car and see the nearest cashier.

Myth: Cashiers will pay your toll if you wink at them, and tell them how good they look.

Fact: Ah No honey, this is a toll booth your powers don’t work here.

Solution: Consider just actually looking at the bottom of your bag or man purse, rather than embarrassing your self any further by begging.

Myth: If I am entirely to far from the toll booth when I drive up, someone will fetch my money for me so I don’t have to get out of my car.
Fact: Toll booths are stationary. Enough said!
Solution: Consider using that round thingy called your steering wheel to direct your vehicle closer to the toll booth as you drive up.

That’s all for Myths, Facts and Solutions at GA 400, happy commuting.

T r a v e l i n g T h r o u g h

We may all be traveling on the same roads, but we are on many different journeys. We are traveling to destinations that we may never see, because we failed to pack what was needed to make the journey. We may not have everything we will need when we are starting out, but in order to succeed we must rise to the occasion when the occasion arises. Our needs are what our journey realizes. It is the need for a steady pay check that brings the Georgia 400 Toll Plaza cashiers there. It is what we do not need that makes this job more difficult than some of us can bear. It is the many nasty stares, but unfortunately too often they do not stop there. We’ve been called niggers, we’ve been called bitches and some of us have remained silent for fear of the doctor’s stitches.

    When I started out on the journey that led me to this place, I made many stops before here that prepared me for what I’d face. I’m glad no one ever tells us how difficult the journey would be, because the fear that would grip us would keep us from the people we need to be. There are some things that I have been through which I wouldn’t choose to go through again, but giving up now is not something I can comprehend. I’ve decided to run on because I want to see what the end will be, and I want to know that the final destination was worth the trouble of this long journey.

    We may all be traveling on the same roads, but we each have our own unique battles to face, battles that bring us to any given place. Life is not a race; it is more about keeping pace. There are no short cuts for the things we must face to become the people we strive to be. There are no short cuts on the road to victory. We must be tested in order to have a testimony. This is what I come to proclaim today, it is what I stand to my feet to say. I am here, and all my life’s lessons stand with me. And because of the wisdom those lessons carry, I can say with absolute certainty that I have never been so free. The journey is long and there is a lot of work left for us to do, and it is my prayer for all of you that the visions you have for your lives becomes so clear that you burn a path to success through your fear. In order to enjoy success tomorrow we must work for it today, our faithfulness will be reward either way. 11/20/08 Copyright © 2008 Akil Johnson All Rights Reserved

As we grow into more sophisticated skin we shall realize the wisdom in rethinking everything.

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