I have a secret fear of the lunchmeat counter. As I round the beginning aisles of the supermarket I scope out the line trying to decide if I should rush over immediately or wait until the turn on the next aisle. Once the decision to proceed has been made as I roll up to the glass case a new dilemma arises. Should I take a number ticket or take my chances that I am the next in line? Today I chose not to take a ticket. The customer before me was well into her order and I was the only one besides her waiting. Until another lover of the luncheon meat popped up and made the choice,rather quickly, to grab a ticket. Now I was sweating...literally biting my nails. I was reciting in my head my "what's right is right" speech when the counter girl said "Who's next?"
"Ahhhhhhh", I said to myself. But alas the gentleman of course admitted that I was waiting first.
All I could think was,"Yeah, your lucky mister, you have no idea what kind of vocabulary words I was considering in my head."
What's wrong with me?
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7 years ago