Waiting

The other day I spent about 3

hours waiting, two in a couple of

Dr’s offices and one at the bank.

Today I am waiting for my

delayed flight in the Air Canada

lounge. Waiting, waiting.

I watch as people come to the

entrance of the main area in the

lounge. Some hustle in going

directly to a seat, others stand

looking around taking time to pick their spot. What curious creatures we are.

How differently we spend our waiting time.

A young family hurriedly goes to the food area. The children excited at first and then become fussy. An elderly couple settles into their seats and unpack their belongings. Then they check and double check them as if somehow something may shifted or disappeared since the last check and repack. A fiftyish man who looks like “Sting” swaggers to a seat by the window, spreads out, and stakes his territory. No one will dare sit in the chair across the little table from him. The entire space is his. I notice how emphatically he commands his space, so different from the elderly baggage checking couple.

Slowly, everyone finds their spot and territory has been decided. Then instantly out come the screens, big and small but oh so prominent.

What did we do before screens? Did we talk and relate to one another? I think I remember doing that in the past. I think I remember more smiles and laughter.

Today there are few smiles except for the gracious servers who quietly move about tidying up after the screen-entranced waiters.

So what do I do while I wait? I people watch of course, and try desperately to not go onto my screen and appreciate the moment. Do I succeed? Sometimes.