"Um. Cuban"

I just came from a mall. The parking lot was much more crowded than it has been. There were lines of cars in both exit ramps. Naturally, I chose the line with only one car in it. It was a decision I regretted quickly. Four or five times I saw an arm with wristwatch come out of the driver's window, do something ineffectual at the exit machine, disappear inside the car, repeat. On the last I dropped my head on my chest

When I picked my head up an attendant, an African-American man, was walking to assistance in the island between lanes. When the gate arm went up and the Honda SUV freed I drove forward, still steamed.

"What the hell was that about?"

"Um...Cuban."

The gate arm went up and I left.