The white Lexus four-door with California license plates pulled round the aisle intersecting the parking lot lane I was in. Even though I had the right-of-way, the driver of the Lexus gave it the gas, gliding round the bend and squeezing in right in front of me.

They say timing is everything and I had timed my free 30 minutes in the parking lot down to a minute or so to spare.

The clock was ticking and the stakes were high. At this particular parking lot the first 30 minutes are free - but one minute over and we're talking a bill of $13 for the first full hour.

It was raining, I was annoyed, and the Lexus driver appeared to not understand how the system worked.

In an effort to maximize profit, this particular parking lot has done away with all attendants and replaced friendly, reliable people with low tech mechanical machines that jam and quit and give up on us humans quickly.

I should have known better.

From where I sat, it looked like the driver of the Lexus was inserting the parking card the wrong way into the machine. He turned it every which way, pushing the card in each time, only to have the card spit out by the machine. The guy was wearing an attractive shirt with French cuffs and his arm stretched in and out through the open car window in an odd dance with the card reader.

There is a call button on the card reader for cases just as this and I saw the hand and the French cuffs tapping, pressing and then pounding on the call button. My experience is that whoever mans the machine takes their time and when they do answer you can't hear a thing.

Ah, hope. I heard shouting between the Lexus guy and whoever it was on the end of the call button. Even though the rain was blowing about, I lowered my window to see if I could hear whether or not there was hope of me getting past the gate in time.

I got no information, but I did get very wet.

Then suddenly the gate went up and the Lexus lunged forward.

I pulled forward as the gate went down. It was my turn.

Now, I really did not have much of an excuse. And I had convinced myself that the 30 minutes had expired about 3 or 4 minutes ago. The fact that the Lexus driver used up my exit time, and then some, somehow in the rain and the glaring neon light from above, somehow it seemed phony that his problem excused my problem.

I inserted the card, the little mechanical machine hummed and groaned and there was a clear moment of suspense. And then, the gate went up- I smiled to myself, nodded to the security camera watching, watching and off into the rain I drove.

Timing.

I've been thinking about timing as I finish up the income taxes.

April 15, I wonder who dreamed up making that the day that sends chills, dread and trembling down the spine of so many. Did said nameless person have any idea what imprint he or she was inserting for eternity onto an otherwise promising spring day? Would not a dreary day in February have done better? Or perhaps Halloween would have been more appropriate - a little fright and a big tax bite - all on the same day.

This year I may find myself on the 15th making my way through lines at the post office. That will be me trying to hand off those taxes to someone willing to time stamp me before midnight, before the deadline. And if I get in line behind someone with fancy French cuffs - well, I've been duly warned.