So, on Friday after work, I’m in the supermarket minding my own business, when a new line opens at the checkout. I zip in behind somebody else, when I happen to run into an old schoolmate of mine who I’ve not seen in a good couple of years.
Since he’s got less stuff than me and there’s nobody behind me, I let him go first and we have a good ol’ catchup – how’s the family, work, general nerdery – all while I’m loading my shopping cart’s contents onto the conveyer belt.
Today’s blog post is a true and proper rant, so batten down the hatches!
Imagine, if you will, a clothing store. You select a few items off the racks that you want to try on, and you head to the changing rooms. You get in, and you put on that new pair of jeans, or that nice jacket, or that dashing cummerbund, and stand there admiring your potential purchase in the mirror. Except that in that mirror, you also see another customer, already in your cubicle, with their own items in hand. They say nothing, merely stand there staring at you in the store’s clothes. It feels a little awkward, and you feel like you should say something to them, since they ARE invading your personal space and obviously trying to put pressure on you to finish so that they can speed up getting back to whatever passes for a life in their world.
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