I’m driving into Century City Mall and pull up to the parking ticket dispenser. I punch the green button to get a parking chit.
As the dot matrix printer inside whirls into life, the machine’s LED message window informs me in glowing cash green letters:
YOUR TICKET IS BEING PRODUCED.
Not, “…is being printed”? Not, “…is coming”? Maybe just a humble, “Please wait”?
The machine spits out my greenlit ticket, and I clutch it between my fingers. The bitter irony; I can now tell the world that something of mine has been produced in LA.