Right On Queue

“It’s moving quick enough.  You’ll be fine,” Lana tried to comfort her visibly uncomfortable husband, Fidel.

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you,” Fidel shot back.

With every fiber of his being, from the hairs on his head to the hairs on his toe knuckles, he hated lines.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for and I did not mean to lash out at you.  The situation is out of my control and I am coping poorly,” Fidel said.  He said this often.

Lana slanted an eyebrow at him, tightened her lips and made a sound that unmistakably one of irritation.

“I have to wait too, you know,” she said.

“Do we really need any of this stuff?” Fidel asked.

“Baby formula and diapers?” Lana’s eyebrows moved from strictly irritated to shocked and irritated.  Both at once.  Fidel knew he chose his words poorly.

“This is a suck fest of the suckiest levels,” Fidel said.

“There, see we’re moving forward,” Lana said.  They shuffled forward a few steps.

“How can there be only one lane open?” Fidel asked, his frustration mounting.

“Because there can be only one,” Lana joked.

“You get me.  You know that? You just get me,” Fidel enjoyed a good reference.  Suddenly the line seemed less painful.



In conclusion, I am not looking forward to a shopping trip tonight.
Thanks for reading.


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