Sarah Rose knows you have an unusual talent

Imagine you are at the grocery store or the drive through lanes at the bank/ATM or at some adorable boutique waiting to buy matching Ming vases. In all cases, there is more than one cashier available and a line behind each cashier. My special talent is always choosing the line that will take the absolute longest. Even after a cursory scan of number of items, an assumption of personality of both cashier and customers, and a search for receipts or returns, I still always pick the wrong line. Even when I pick a line intuitively and then change it because I am always wrong, I still end up in the wrong line. I end up behind the person who wants to return something with no receipt, or the person who contests the price of every item in the cart, or the lonely person who engages the cashier in conversation for 15 minutes, or the person who tries to pay with a personal check and doesn’t write any of the information in while they are waiting. It isn’t as cool as flying or x-ray vision, but many of the superheroes have to reconcile the fact that there super powers aren’t what they thought they would be.

When you have a power like that, you get used to waiting in line. It isn’t breadline Russia, and I am not a patient person by nature, but waiting your turn is something that everyone has to learn to do. That said, lady in the minivan this morning, WHAT MAKES YOU SO FUCKING SPECIAL!!! I saw you driving in the bike lane on the one lane street, trying to bypass the rest of us who had to wait. That is why I straddled the line and wouldn’t let you over. And you people on Hampden, you see the line forming all the way back at Jefferson, yet you roar ahead and cut over at the last minute. Where does this sense of entitlement come from? You are driving a 2004 Jetta, so I can’t imagine that your upbringing justifies your arrogance. What makes some people think the rules don’t apply to them? Why is there no justice? Do we really have to legislate common courtesy and decency?

Villi and I were talking about this one, still seething from the series of injustices we witnessed, and decided we should make a huge sign that says, “people who cut in line go straight to hell.” We were going to stand on the sidewalk at Hampden and shake the sign menacingly at people who cut over. I don’t know that we care that much about it now, but I just feel that these people get away with it because no one challenges them. Meanwhile, I’m three cars back, white-knuckled with fury. And when I finally snap and kill someone with a tire iron, they will call it a “senseless tragedy.” Even in death, this cheater wouldn’t be held accountable.

Wow, that got pretty dark, but it felt good to get a little of that stress off my chest.

Leslie sent me this cartoon this morning. It made me smile. I like a good rickrolling joke.