Remember cursive writing? And smallpox vaccinations? I'm sure you all do. But they are foreign concepts to those beneath our advanced age. Here's another concept they just can't grasp: WAITING IN LINE!
It happened Friday in my very own Gas Station Chicken Store. No matter what time I plan to leave home on Fridays to mail my boys' letters before the 11:30 deadline...I end up at The Gas Station Chicken Store, two minutes on either side of noon. I don't know how that happens. I can be rushed, afraid I'm not going to leave home by 10:30, or leisurely dallying with my Shiba, thinking I have plenty of cushion time. No matter how many other stops I make (credit union, bank, Original River Mart, gas for T-Hoe), no matter how long I wait in traffic, I STILL arrive at The Gas Station Chicken Store two minutes either side of noon.
Today a squad of cars pulled onto the lot as I was getting out of T-Hoe. You'd have thought they were undercover cops responding to a silent alarm, so fast did they arrive, and so fast did the occupants scurry inside.
As I approached the door, a woman came from the other direction, and opened it ahead of me. She DID give it the wide swing to accommodate my entrance. After me came two of her passengers. I veered right, to head past the register and chicken-ordering station, directly toward the soda fountain. They went down the middle aisle. I had no idea if they were going to browse at the soda/beer coolers along the back wall, blocking my path. Thus my alternate direction.
Several people were in line to pay. And the Lady Owner was leaning against the chicken counter, talking. She saw all the customers, and said, "Oh! I'd better get out of the way!" I stood across from the soda fountain, allowing her to pass, intending to step up after she cleared out of the way.
I'll be ding dang donged if those other three gals didn't come up from the back aisle, and STEP IN FRONT OF ME TO POUR THEIR SODAS!
Seriously. Not just one. All three! They could clearly see that I was waiting politely for access to the soda fountain.
WHAT IN THE NOT-HEAVEN IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?
I assume they were from the factory a few buildings up the outer road. It lets off for lunch at noon. After those three usurpers had their own magical elixirs, they moved along to the chicken counter. As I turned with my own 44 oz Diet Coke, to head towards the pay counter, another gal came down the aisle and stood with the 3 Amigos. I'm pretty sure she worked with them. Because she just butted in to order chicken, having no care in the world if that's what I was waiting for.
Good thing I wasn't. I might just have spoken up for my already-in-line rights!