Line Dancing
Posted by Carol Starr Schneider on Mar 10th, 2008
Temptation is all around me. To my left are Swiss chocolate bars, gourmet jellybeans and Macadamia nuts. To my right are magazines full of helpful weight-loss information, fashion tips, “easy” recipes and juicy celebrity gossip. I ask you, what more could a gal waiting in line at the market want? All my favorite distractions are right there, taunting me, coaxing me to lose myself in their web of empty calories and delicious half-truths.
But all I can focus on are the two carts in front of me. I start to calculate how long each one will take, divided by how many other time-killing errands await me on this lovely spring day.
I can feel myself aging. Suddenly, the Toblerone that greets me at eye-level tries to engage me in conversation.
“Come on, pick me up, and unwrap me. Check out my shiny foil. You can see yourself! That’s it… take a bite. You know you want to,” it whispers seductively.
Now the magazines chime in. “Pssst! It’s official. Angelina’s preggers. Again! Open me up! Take me home! Get all gory details! Oh, and guess who’s suffering horribly? Poor Jennifer! Just look at her! The heartbreak in her eyes! She’s dying of loneliness. She’s freezing her eggs! She’s planning to adopt like her good friend Sheryl! She’s back with Vince! She’s dating that cute guy from ‘Sex in the City’! She’ll never get over Brad!”
“Hush!” I tell the candy. “Not now,” I scold People and Star. “I’m about to make a decision I know I’ll regret.”
Ignoring my better judgment, I move my cart over to another line that promises to go faster. There’s only one customer ahead of me. How long can it take? With any luck, I’ll be out of here by tomorrow night.
I pick up a Reader’s Digest, confident in my decision to change lines. “I did the right thing,” I tell myself. “I’m in control.”
I skim a touching, first-person narrative about a woman who survived in the woods for eight years and later married the wolf that protected her.
“This would make a great movie,” I say out loud. “Of course, you’d need someone strong to play the wolf…”
Now I look up and see that the line I recently departed is moving along rather briskly. One cart goes through, and then another, and the person who took my place in line is in first position. And I haven’t budged.
What the - - - - ?!
Obviously, there’s only one thing to do. I move back to my previous line. This feels like a brilliant maneuver on my part, until I see that the line I just left is now moving. Carts are flying through, one after another, while the man in front of me attempts to pay for his groceries with pennies, foreign coins, coupons and tokens from a video arcade that closed two years ago.
As the manager walks up and says, “What’s the problem here?” to the man in question, I start to weep, kick myself and consume a Toblerone whole.
Once again, I have let my impatience get the best of me. Once again, I’m being unfairly punished for changing lines when I should have stayed put.
Will I ever learn my lesson? This isn’t the first time this has happened to me. It keeps happening, week after week.
At this stage, one thing remains clear. I’ll never get out of this market. My sons will finish school, get married and have children and I’ll miss all of it because I’ll still be standing here in line, waiting to pay. No matter what, I refuse to pay for the Toblerone. That one’s on the house. I’ve earned it.
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