Your honor, I admit I’m an impatient person and don’t tell me I have to control my anger. Just please listen to the facts. It’s about the frustration of dealing with idiots who don’t know how to use a self-service checkout at a supermarket. They stand there staring at the device trying to figure out how to pay. Or how to weigh the produce or input the correct quantity of apples purchased. Or how to find the proper description of the item if there is no scan-worthy bar code. They stand there scratching their head instead of asking for assistance. Like the one attendant for six self-service machines is going to volunteer to
walk over and accomodate them- yah right? Even the five other people in line with me applaud when I make a comment.
Don’t blame senior citizens for being a self-service culprit because they stay away from those automated lanes as if by touching a machine one can catch the asian flu. They don’t know how to use them and don’t want to know. Just like they don’t use debit cards. Seniors are willing to stand in the slowest checkout lines so that they can have the privilege of telling the bagger, “paper and plastic please- and put the eggs in a separate bag. thank you.”
It’s about the frustration of sitting at a red light that has to go through its pre-ordained duration of signal regardless that there is no cross traffic. And there is no right turn on red. And when the light finally turns red for the alleged cross traffic, the left turn green arrow comes up first for the one on-coming car that just showed up fifteen seconds ago while I’ve been sitting there for two minutes. It is not fair, I tell you!
It’s about not being able to grasp things properly or button the sleeve on my left wrist because my right hand has a buzz feeling from carpal tunnel. You try to deal with a twenty-four-hour-a-day sensation as if your elbow bumped against the edge of a table and see if you can project patience, Judgey Wudgey.
It’s about watching a football game and wondering why I have sit through three minutes of commercials every time there is a change of possession. Or a National Basketball Association game and the game is going at a good flow and all of a sudden the referees call an offical time out. Hey, jerks- if the coaches didn’t feel a need to stop play, let them continue!
Of course, the one who causes you to be impatient thinks that you suffer from anger. It’s not anger!! Well, maybe there is a wee bit. In law they talk about justified homicide. So, there ought to be justified anger. Do me a favor, the next time you walk into my bank to make a simple deposit and there is a line of eight people ahead of you and only one teller- say some nasty things. I don’t want the bank personnel to think I’m the only one who complains.
I want patience and I want it now!