Today I was wondering what it's like to be a toll taker in a tollbooth since nearly everyone approaches a tollbooth in a spirit of total indifference to the person sitting behind the glass. It's really sad and too bad that 99% of drivers have no interest in the man or woman who extend a hand to take your change exactly as he or she has previously accepted a trillion nickels, dimes and quarters from the slimey fingers of strangers like you and I who come and go in the blink of an eye.

 

The life of a toll taker takes many different directions. Some are exceedingly wise, compassionate individuals who contribute to a wide variety of charitable causes and are are loved and respected by their extended families who live lives of quiet desperation in hovels on the outskirts of Camden, New Jersey. Others are bachelors and bachelorettes with no desire for a mate, solitary loners who paint, sculpt or play the the saxophone in their spare time and don't mind the tedious, uneventful progression of days spent in tollbooths since it allows them to meditate or slip into reverie and devote minimal thought to the job while focusing all their energy on the perfection of their art.