Self Control

So I'm feeling a little guilty because I XC skied on the groomed trails behind our condominium without picking up a pass.
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After checking the web on how to obtain a pass, I find out that North Conway residents and taxpayers are supposed to have a free pass.
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You would think that I was applying for a visa to Afganistan by the loser counter geek at Ragged Mountain Sports where you are supposed to pick up the passes. After showing him a Town of Conway correspondence that was addressed to Joanne, he asked if that was my name.
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Naturally, I kept my cool.
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I said "No, that's my spouse. See the address? It's the same address as mine on the license that I'm showing you."
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Captain Dipshit took a least two minutes studying the license and the letter, then he said that I needed a current bill from the Town.
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Again, I maintained my kind and courteous disposition.
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I asked him to look us up on the web. We are taxpayers in Conway and have been for 15 years.
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Seeing that I wasn't going to leave, our Moron of the Hour pulled out a printout of taxpayers, and lo and behold, there was Joanne's name. So he says, "It says Joanne and not John."
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Now, I disclosed a tiny bit that I was starting to get annoyed by this useless sack of monkey shit, and I asked him if I should just get a pass for Joanne.
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Lieutenant Dork then opined that it seemed like he could give me a pass, but that the internet was wrong and that it would cost $15.00.
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Now I was downright pissed, and required all of the self control that I could muster, because this Asshole deserves to have his head ripped off so that I can wipe his ass with his own face.
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But again, I exhibited appropriate restraint.
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Mega Dink took my picture with a polaroid camera and laminated a freaking season's pass, handing it to me and wishing me a nice day.
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So Captain Dipshit, enjoy your bureaucratic powerhouse position as Bitch of the XC Trail passes.
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I pray to GOD to find you alone out on the groomed course.