Mr 5 Pockets
You know how you get somewhere and you are either sitting in your car waiting on someone or in the mall or the doctor's office and you feel like people watching? That was me on the day I went to my orthopedic doctor. I was alone, no good magazines in the waiting room, so my eyes started rolling around the room.
Trying not to look as though I'm staring I start my looking with my peripheral vision. A cute little lady with her hair askew opens the door and checks in with the receptionist. Behind her is a young woman in her 30's with her phone up against her ear talking and never missing a beat. She backs up and sits by grandma. Grandma looks her up and down and points to a frayed spot on the 30 year olds jeans and asks if that is a hole. The girl laughs and says, "Yes, I bought them this way". Grandma looks as though she is not hearing correctly. Then grandma points at the hem on her jeans and she says mine are starting to fray too from dragging the ground. The girl looks at me and smiles.
Next, a man walks in and checks in with the receptionist. I think he must be in his mid 50's. He takes the clipboard with the 40 pages of paperwork to be completed in the next 15 minutes before he is allowed to see the doctor. He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out his pen and begins to write. Then looks bewildered and starts feeling for his left pocket, then the right pocket of his jeans. There is what he is seeking - - his cell phone! Click, click, click, he looks at his cell phone and writes on his packet of papers.
After writing a while he puts the phone back in his left pocket. Now he is writing again, and lays his paperwork on his lap and begins the pocket dance again. He is reaching in his front pocket, and now his back left pocket. This is getting interesting and difficult to act anonymous. He pulls his hanky from his pocket and blows. Back into the pocket the snotty hanky goes. Now he begins to write again (with his own pen of course), and suddenly he is at a stand still once again. He pats his shirt pocket, not there! He reaches into his right pocket, not there, and now the left pocket. He pulls out his (hold on ladies, it's not what you are thinking) cell phone once more and flips it open and click, click, click, click, reads, and writes the information down on his packet of papers.
Next performance: He starts writing again, oops, cell rings - - back to the phone, talk, talk, talk, hang-up. Puts the phone in his right pocket now. He is writing again! Grandma gets called to the back and granddaughter finishes her long phone conversation about nothing and goes with her. Mr. 5 pockets is still filling out paperwork and suddenly he looks up and tries to remember, but can't. Back to the pockets his hand goes. This time he is in the pocket he hasn't searched yet. He comes up with his billfold for the insurance card and the license information. He writes all the information down and then he heads to the receptionist and hands her the clipboard. Now, she asks him something and the search for the back pocket with the billfold is on. He pats the opposite pocket and no billfold so he pats the other pocket and no billfold, then he reaches into his front pocket and pulls out (it's just the billfold ladies) his cards and hands them to her. I guess there is something to be said about carrying around a purse after all and I've decided being a lesbian is a lot harder than it appears.
Trying not to look as though I'm staring I start my looking with my peripheral vision. A cute little lady with her hair askew opens the door and checks in with the receptionist. Behind her is a young woman in her 30's with her phone up against her ear talking and never missing a beat. She backs up and sits by grandma. Grandma looks her up and down and points to a frayed spot on the 30 year olds jeans and asks if that is a hole. The girl laughs and says, "Yes, I bought them this way". Grandma looks as though she is not hearing correctly. Then grandma points at the hem on her jeans and she says mine are starting to fray too from dragging the ground. The girl looks at me and smiles.
Next, a man walks in and checks in with the receptionist. I think he must be in his mid 50's. He takes the clipboard with the 40 pages of paperwork to be completed in the next 15 minutes before he is allowed to see the doctor. He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out his pen and begins to write. Then looks bewildered and starts feeling for his left pocket, then the right pocket of his jeans. There is what he is seeking - - his cell phone! Click, click, click, he looks at his cell phone and writes on his packet of papers.
After writing a while he puts the phone back in his left pocket. Now he is writing again, and lays his paperwork on his lap and begins the pocket dance again. He is reaching in his front pocket, and now his back left pocket. This is getting interesting and difficult to act anonymous. He pulls his hanky from his pocket and blows. Back into the pocket the snotty hanky goes. Now he begins to write again (with his own pen of course), and suddenly he is at a stand still once again. He pats his shirt pocket, not there! He reaches into his right pocket, not there, and now the left pocket. He pulls out his (hold on ladies, it's not what you are thinking) cell phone once more and flips it open and click, click, click, click, reads, and writes the information down on his packet of papers.
Next performance: He starts writing again, oops, cell rings - - back to the phone, talk, talk, talk, hang-up. Puts the phone in his right pocket now. He is writing again! Grandma gets called to the back and granddaughter finishes her long phone conversation about nothing and goes with her. Mr. 5 pockets is still filling out paperwork and suddenly he looks up and tries to remember, but can't. Back to the pockets his hand goes. This time he is in the pocket he hasn't searched yet. He comes up with his billfold for the insurance card and the license information. He writes all the information down and then he heads to the receptionist and hands her the clipboard. Now, she asks him something and the search for the back pocket with the billfold is on. He pats the opposite pocket and no billfold so he pats the other pocket and no billfold, then he reaches into his front pocket and pulls out (it's just the billfold ladies) his cards and hands them to her. I guess there is something to be said about carrying around a purse after all and I've decided being a lesbian is a lot harder than it appears.
posted by Sasebone at
2:23 PM
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