Yesterday, just as I passed through the tollway booth, I simultaneously converged with two dudes on Harley hogs in the lane to my right. The fellow farthest from me retrieved a toll tag from his jacket and held it up for rightful passage; the fellow nearest me, with practised precision and timing, rotated his forearm and elbow backwards and downwards, slyly moved his left hand to a horizontal position just above his rear tire, and covered his tag number as he illicitly passed through the booth.
Since the North Texas Tollway Authority photographs all violators, here's what they'll see-a thirty something, wanna be hippie, with bandana-tied stringy hair streaming in the wind, astride a yellow Harley with red flames (how tacky!), tattooed arms barren, and the palm of his left hand blocking out his tag number which, by the way, is 3LX 352.
Just a little gesture of deception, a neat trick of deceit, that sleight of hand; not "slight," as in "small of amount or degree; of little substance, importance, or influence; trivial, frail, or flimsy"; but rather "sleight," as in "a strategy or device applied with skill and dexterity for the purpose of cunning or deceit."
I wondered, how often do such "slight" gestures occur on the tollway; it must be a well known and popular ploy to avoid rightful debt. More broadly, how many such "slight" sins of various kinds occur daily in Dallas, in Texas, in the world. The number must be staggering. It's a wonder our planet doesn't fly off course or sink into a dark hole with the cumulative weight of such "slight" transgressions.
That motorcyclist thought no one noticed, even that no one could notice his "slight" transgression so subtly accomplished by his "sleight" of hand. But Heaven watched, and no soft angel voice whispered "slight" in its hallowed halls, but rather a sevenfold thunder uttered, "SLEIGHT!"
"In the day when God shall judge the secrets of men, and our "secret sins in the light of his countenance," perhaps that cyclist will get a hard lesson in spelling.