I’m Impatient

16 Sep

Here is a play about the silent thoughts between me and the check-out lady at Marshalls tonight:


Me: Hm, you seem to be the only register open. I’ll just sneak in here behind this customer with the funny voice to happily purchase my wares.

Her: Uh huh, that’s right, just me here tonight, and my mind is on burritos so don’t plan on getting out of here anytime soon.

Me: Ugh, why does it take you so long to find the tags on everything?  And why is this customer talking your ear off??

Her: Relax, it’s Wednesday. What else would you be doing tonight? Oh? Eating dinner? Yes, me too. Although for me it would be a low-carb snack, I’m on South Beach.

Me: Alright, this is getting a bit ridiculous. Now you aren’t even pretending to look for the tags, you are just standing there idle trying to explain to this customer where the closest McDonalds is. LADY, we are the fattest state in the country—there is a McDonalds everywhere you turn! Drive half a block!

Her: That’s right, the more you glare and fidget the slower I’ll go, I have you right where I want you.

Me: For what? So I’ll be seconds from a coat hanger throwing, plastic bag shredding retail rage by the time you get to me? Is this about that sweater I put back in the blouse aisle? Because there were other sweaters there, it wasn’t just me.

Her: I think I’ll take a walk now!

Me: What. No. Don’t. Oh come ON! Where are you going? There’s no one else here! Maybe she wouldn’t have left her credit card if you hadn’t been playing fast food Zagat of West Virginia.

Her: (trailing off) …fresh air is nice!



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