Waiting In Line

I always seem to end up waiting in a line that moves at a snail’s pace, chiding myself that I chose the wrong one.

I’m the person checking my watch, arms crossed over my chest, fingers tapping rapidly, sighing.

I want to be the smiling person behind me who appears unfazed by the slowness of the line, reading tabloid headlines displayed next to the checkout stand or engrossed with an iPhone. 

I would not call myself a patient waiter.

Instead, I gauge the movement around me and play mental ping-pong about whether or not switching my position will improve my lot. This happens to me in stores, at the gas station and on the freeway. It’s a phenomenon known as Erma Bombeck’s Law: “The other line always moves faster.”

I think you get my drift here.

The person three ahead of me has an item needing a price check, a credit card is declined or the person in front of me challenges a store’s return policy and then engages in extensive dialogue about the item’s condition.

On the road, I tend to end up behind the car that drives below the speed limit in the passing lane or the driver who waits so long to make a turn, the light changes and I’m forced to wait through another cycle of traffic.

If there are six or seven options, without fail I choose the line with the new “trainee” and the “I’m sorry, this is my first day on the job” apology.

On occasion I’ve counted the items in my cart, removed the “want but don’t need” items and moved to the Express Lane knowing I’ll be back to shop for groceries before too long. This, however, doesn’t work anywhere else.

I’m not a shopper. I don’t shop just to browse or spend an afternoon checking out the latest sales. I lean more toward the “necessity shopper”–I need a gift for a special occasion, there’s no food in the fridge or the battery in the remote control died–and clothes shopping? Definitely, absolutely, not my idea of a fun way to spend an afternoon.

Time is the problem–or more specifically–lack of time. Even a slight delay when I’m rushing to finally shop, throws my already impacted life into overdrive, but like it or not waiting is part of life.

Think about it. Doctor and dentist offices, airports and bus stations all have waiting rooms. I expect to wait in those places, but when the wait exceeds my expectation, I’m annoyed. A reasonable explanation goes a long way; I can wait with greater equanimity if I know the reason. For me, agitated waiting always seems longer – ten minutes can seem like an eternity.

Last weekend I went to a movie at . When it failed to start on time–nearly twenty minutes with no announcement–the person with me became annoyed. She found it unbearable to just sit and wait and went out seeking an explanation for the delay. For once, waiting didn’t bother me—I munched popcorn.

When the movie ended (terrible by the way), they handed out rain checks—their thank you for being patient. It was an unexpected surprise. Afterwards, we stopped in at Pizzeria Venti and joked about being rewarded for choosing the wrong movie.  

There won’t always be rain checks, but maybe I can learn to check my annoyance the next time I find myself waiting in a slow line. I could read on my Kindle, but I could also look around and say “hello” to someone also waiting in line. Who know who might be standing next to me.

And, if I’m honest, I have to admit some of those tabloid headlines at the checkout stand are ridiculous enough to even put a smile on my impatient face. Abraham Lincoln Was A Woman. Hillary Clinton Adopts Alien Baby. Seriously?