Patience is a virtue or picking dingleberries on a cool spring day

Unlike most people I was born in an elevator on the way up to the third floor of our local bank dropping off samples of cardboard for the bank manager's wife who happens to love cardboard. So, even from an early age, my life seems to be filled with waiting. I wait in line at the bank. I wait for the mail. I wait for a line to open up at Walmart and watch Hector and his wife jump in front of me in the line that just opened up. As I get older I should be getting used to the wait. But it would seem the opposite is happening. Perhaps it's an accumulation of hours of waiting that have done in my patience capability. Watching the young enter into the new world of waiting gives someone such as me, with a little wear and tear, the urge to scream at them and yell, "Get out of line while there's still time. You're young and you have your whole lives in front of you. Don't give in to the lie. You will get older and more frustrated. No one cares how much your feet hurt or back aches. You're gonna be listening for hours to automated answering services when you call customer service. There's still a chance to get off this ride. You're young and hopeful. Look what it's done to me. I looked like you once. There were no lines running across my forehead and bags accumulating under my eyes. This is just the beginning of a slow painful death and you still have a chance. Run, Forest, Run!!!" Forest Gump was right but he stopped the speech a little bit too short. My momma always said Life's like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get. But one things for sure. Once you eat enough of life you're gonna get the runs. But Forrest was right. Every time you step into line you just never know who you're gonna meet. Could it be that elderly lady who waits till the cashier's placed the last item into the bag when she remembers she has to find her checkbook and start filling out the check. (We've all been there. Her hand trembles as she battles the arthritis and bad reading glasses to make out her illegible writing. Then, after hours of trying, she hands it to the clerk and asks if they'll fill it out for her.) Or the young mother with one too many kids who always has that one that likes to stare at you and you feel the glare pierce through your very soul. Or the man who knows for a fact that the item was definitely $8.73 instead off $8.98 and could they check that price for him? Yes, life's a box of chocolates that you wish were small little grenades you could lob at those people as you feel that last ounce of courage fade away as they've taken another five minutes of your life you will never get back. It is in these instances that I begin the dream sequences of my life. Those moments when I ponder life, the universe, and everything. I dare to dream an alternate reality. A place where I magically transport to the front of the line. Where no one's ever heard a child scream at the top of his lungs that he's tired and hungry and just wants that candy bar you promised him if he was good. A magic place where seating is provided and no one would jump in line ahead of you and everyone keeps track of who was before them. A place where people remember where their check book is and have their money ready to pay upon completion of their shopping checkout. A world where a CSR is really a customer service representative and not some small asian lady from Hong Kong who is just trying to make 12 cents that day by working for a phone company half way around the world. That's where I go to hide while I wait. And then, every so often, it happens. There isn't anyone else in line and the little light is on indicating the line is open and the person at the register gives you a little smile and says, "I can take you right here. How are you today?" And they immediately and expertly drag your items across the scanner and you're walking out the door not sure what universe you just left but you feel better for the experience. Or that moment when you hear the business answer your call and the person sincerely wants to help you figure out why you're favorite show can't be displayed on your tv. Or that moment of ecstasy when your order is all there when you get home and there's napkins and ketchup and everything and you know someone with an i.q. in the triple digits was working that day. I do believe many alternate realities exist and somehow we cross over to a reality filled with caring and responsible intelligent people who just want to work to benefit society as a whole and not collect a paycheck in anticipation of that next job where they'll finally receive the fame and fortune that should be theirs rather than another 8 hour day filled with people with little patience left. I know I'm not alone but on some days the world seems so alien to me I just wonder how far I was under when "they" took me and transported me to this harsh and desolate place where the I has taken over the WE. And so I wait for the return visit. When I was little I would stand so quiet in line for my milk. The cook would smile at me and say, "There you go little one." Life wasn't so bad in that line. But that was 40 years ago and now I wait in line at Walmart for my milk. At least there's the dingleberry hunt to keep me occupied. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.