Thursday, July 31, 2014

WOW: Witless Old Waiter

I have to admit I am not all that good at waiting. Oh sure I can sling hash if I have to and toss tasty trenchers at toothless townies when needed, but I’m talking about the kind of waiting one does unwillingly in doctor’s offices with lots of patience. It’s not that I am better than others or that my time is more important, it’s just society should succumb and willingly appease ME, the def-initely dumb and incorrigible geez.

Since I often must cry for sanctuary when I skulk among the masses, I usually do most of my waiting without interaction from others anyway. Frequently I just stare at my computer and devise awful evil things I want to do to that endless centipede circle cheerfully spinning while it secretly loads malicious malware. All of the exhibitionistic plants in the house seem to grow bashful when I watch them and even pots of gruel refuse to drool unless I walk-away so it can boil blissfully to black on my white hot cook-top.

Invariably when I paint, fingerprints of varying depth and definition will remain on surfaces for all eternity as fossilized evidence of my frequent ready-testing gets the best of me with every coat. At BBQ’s whose got thyme to harangue meringue  and anyway everybody loves crunchy chips n’ snacks so what’s wrong with a little ‘snap’ from the mac in your salads and cheese? If it weren’t for impatient folks like me society might never know the convenience and merits of nose-hole ready carrots, fingerling potatoes or underwhelming hot-pot coffee at overpriced mini-marts.

Weak peeved geezers of my ilk could probably learn to cope a bit better if society would provide TRUE and accurate estimates of time regardless of task. Why is it so hard to have the gas tank in my car actually BE empty when the gauge confidently says so on the dash? If infuriating wait times for customer care or take-offs on tarmacs are 10 minutes at most, why then turn twice that or more with me up-ended babbling helpless to my selfness banging head to floor? It’s no wonder with credentials like mine, I’ll earn eligibility for witless wheezer n’ geezer protection in time - as long as I’m willing to wait, in a very long line.


  1. I don't think anyone likes waiting, especially when you can't do anything productive while you wait. Though I would prefer my tank not to be empty when my gauge says so, so that I'll have a little left in reserve.

  2. But you were patient enuf to write a blog that made us
    barely patient enuf to read. Or look up your made-up
    words in a dictionary. So you must be jiving us!
    Keep doing it.