Waiting is a bitch.
Really, waiting is a fucking bitch. Did you know that waiting is used as a form of psychological torture. It allows your subject to catastrophize as to what is going to be done to him/her. Now waiting, standing up, is it's own form of pain. When the old bones creak at the knees, and the shoulder blades grow slack. When your arms turn into useless slabs of meat hanging down around you. In other words, your ass grows tired.
Yeah, I had to return to the Mines of Moria today and got there at Two O'clock PM, the same time as my appoint- ment, and walked through the corridors to reach the large hall. Now if you're a reader of this blog, you'll already know what is going to happen next. As for the those who don't, you might want to read this post first. Well gang, the same exact thing happens for the second day. I get on this amazingly long line and stand there reading a book. No sooner than I get started, does this woman approach me, get's on line behind me, and then leans into me. "Sir?" I turn to her, stepping back. Yeah? "Could you hold my space for me? I'm right behind you." I think about it. Alright, and I return to my book. The woman walks off. Probably has something else to do.
Shortly afterwards another woman comes up and I tell her that there's a person who just stepped away behind me. She gets on the line for a few minutes and then taps me on the shoulder. "Excuse me, could you watch my spot too. I have to run real quick to the front to ask a question." Yeah, sure. I return to my book, turn up my headsets. The line moves. A young man comes up behind me. I do the casual lean into his face. Hey buddy, there's two women between us. "Yeah, no problem, "he says. The line moves, slowly, cautiously, like some huge King Cobra. As the line moves, my vantage point of the great hall filled to capacity with plastic chairs changes.
Seated in a chair, some distance away, was the first woman, eating lunch from a aluminum tray. Seated in front of her is the second woman, reading a book. What the Fuck?? God damn did they sucker me?! Oh, they were no doubt professional at this line up monkey business and have now found a racket. They sit on their asses, head out to lunch, go shopping, or do all the little shit that they like or want to do, while I play a fucking place holder. Well I'll be damned. The guy next to me is completely oblivious to the fact that we are suckers and are caught in a supreme bamboozlement. What a fucking fool I am. I grit my teeth and take the anal pounding, with NO lube. Time now, Five O'clock PM. I make it to the fucking end of the cockbreath line and look back over my shoulder to see if the girls ever returned for their place in the line. They never did.
I reach the desk and explain to the woman there that I was here for a work evaluation. She took my paper from me, date stamped it and tossed it into a tray full of others, "Okay, have a seat." Have a seat?? I walk back to the main hall and sit in front of one of the flatscreen monitors and watch CNN. I get pretty good at watching CNN. It's an artform and you have to learn how to do it right. You just can't sit before the boob tube and conquer the ART of watching CNN. I can tell you that because I had an hour of it this fucking time. Time now? Five Thirty PM. A frazzled woman comes out. I swear, her hair standing on end, eyes wide, jacket open, shit unbuttoned at the top. She looked like she stuck her finger into a light socket. She flitters around the people, calling their names and with them, leave the Great Hall. Now this really wouldn't bother me, except that it was happening again. I look around and there's just one other guy in the hall with me. The enormous King Cobra is gone.
There is a security guard leaning over the front desk, still talking to one of the women behind it. I cross over the hall to them and stand there, conspicuously as they continue to hold their conversation. Now, since they were getting to the juicy parts, they stop. The woman didn't stop yabbering because I was standing there, mind you. She stopped because she had gotten to the personal shit in her life, and just didn't like a stranger listening in. "This line is closed, Sir." I can see that, but I'm waiting over there and I've been here almost half the day...."What are you here for?" A work Evaluation. "Do you have paperwork?" Yeah, I gave it to this woman once seated over there...."Well you're in the system, Sir. Have a seat."
I stand there for a moment. Thinking that I could take out the security guard with a karate chop to the throat. Then leap onto the desk, removing a shoe, holding it at the toe, making the heel the 'business' end, and beat the shit out of that woman. Give her a beating her father never did. I mean pound all of her shit down to the ground. Leave her a puddle of blood and a stupid, dress.
I turn and head back to the widescreen and plop into a chair.
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/03/waiting-on-instances.html
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