It was one of those days where everything was taking a ridiculously long time. There was a line at the drycleaners. A line at the supermarket. A line at the coffee shop. I was starting to think that everyone in the world had the same to-do list that I did; they were just one to-do ahead of me the whole day.
I finally made it to the last place on my list. As I walked in, I was thrilled to see that for the first time all day, I was in a store that was mostly empty. I found what I needed in about five minutes flat, then I headed toward the checkout counter.
I was surprised to see that there were a couple of people waiting on line to check out, because there didn’t really seem to be that many people in the store. But since the whole day had been one long waiting game, I figured this was just par for the course. As I got in line behind two ladies with a child, I started checking messages on my cell phone to pass the time.
After a while, I realized I had been waiting on the line for an unusually long time. I am typically not the most patient person, but this was excessive even by a normal patient person’s standards.
Looking at my watch, I realized ten minutes had passed since I’d gotten on line. I peered around the people ahead of me and noticed that some other customers were finishing at the cash registers but for some reason, the line I was on did not seem to be moving. I wondered if maybe I had stumbled onto the set of a new B Horror shoot and was trapped in the movie, “The Day the Line Stood Still.” I started tapping my foot and making huffy noises. Then I looked around for a store employee to complain to. I knew, deep in my heart, that I was a mere five minutes away from becoming a “Karen.”
I knew, deep in my heart, that I was a mere five minutes away from becoming a “Karen.”
Just when I thought my head would explode, I saw someone and waved her over.
“Are you waiting to check out?” she asked me cheerily.
“Yes!” I shouted in frustration. “And this line hasn’t moved in fifteen minutes.”
“Huh?” I said. At first I didn’t quite understand what she was saying. But then I looked closely at the heads of the two ladies and the child standing in front of me and slowly realized their hair was made of plastic. My line wasn’t moving because I wasn’t ON a line. I was standing behind a clothing display on fake people next to the checkout area.
I walked around the mannequins and looked them up and down, just to convince myself that I really was that stupid.
“Oh boy. I am such an idiot,” I moaned to the store employee.
“It’s okay,” she laughed. “This actually happens a lot.”
“Really?” I said with some annoyance. “Then why don’t you move the mannequins further away from the checkout area?”
She grinned. “Because it’s really funny.”
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