I finally figured it out. I mean how to handle the business of waiting in long lines with other Christmas shoppers checking out. (Some of them look ready to check out, or at least frazzled enough to give it up and go home, but that’s for another day.) It occurred to me. I’ll be first, eventually. Then I too can balance my checkbook while the cashier scans and bags my items, answer a text message, send a text and smile back at the next impatient shopper in line, put my credit card carefully in the proper pocket of my wallet, make the chasier check the price of each item, remember I forgot something and ask the cashier to have someone bring it to the checkout stand while the other poor souls wait and fidget. I mean, it must be okay. Other shoppers do it. Right?
Recently, I was waiting for a green light at the intersection of Odem Medo Avenue and Highway 97 in Redmond. As the minutes oozed slowly by, I was again convinced traffic lights are operated by evil genies. The light always take five minutes longer to cycle when I’m next. And then it occurred to me it would good for my blood pressure if I just pretended the other drivers were clearing the way so I could be first again. Finally, after I had grown a new beard, the light changed. Just as I was about the enter the intersection, the last car in line ran the red light. I stomped on the brakes, glad I didn’t jump the light. So much for being first…again.