Queuing -
When I was growing
it was second nature.
Then we got out the habit -
and started congregating and lingering,
vaguely hovering til the bus arrives
and then converging
with no reference to order
or deference to aging.
Or begrudgingly taking a number
and waiting our turn
til called forward, bringing us
out of our revelry.
It's different now.
Now we get there early,
expecting a wait, a line,
spaced out like it's leprosy
that we're suffering -
Like we're resisting
being associated with the others
who are queuing.
Shuffling.
Waiting.
And once arriving,
being begrudgingly admitted
by the high-viz guy who's masking,
and he's insisting
that our partner
has to wait outside
where it's freezing.
Now queuing
is our new necessity -
our communal normality.
Maybe it'll stick
and we'll be sticklers
for a queue that's orderly.
And maybe - just maybe
we'll find that the queues move
a little
more
quickly.
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 6:50 AM UTC
Queuing -
When I was growing
it was second nature.
Then we got out the habit -
and started congregating and lingering,
vaguely hovering til the bus arrives
and then converging
with no reference to order
or deference to aging.
Or begrudgingly taking a number
and waiting our turn
til called forward, bringing us
out of our revelry.
It's different now.
Now we get there early,
expecting a wait, a line,
spaced out like it's leprosy
that we're suffering -
Like we're resisting
being associated with the others
who are queuing.
Shuffling.
Waiting.
And once arriving,
being begrudgingly admitted
by the high-viz guy who's masking,
and he's insisting
that our partner
has to wait outside
where it's freezing.
Now queuing
is our new necessity -
our communal normality.
Maybe it'll stick
and we'll be sticklers
for a queue that's orderly.
And maybe - just maybe
we'll find that the queues move
a little
more
quickly.
