Waiting List Weirdness

Am I the only one who does this?

I’m sitting at a crowded restaurant, doctor’s office or somewhere else that employs a waiting list. Whenever see the host/hostess (mmm, cupcakes) prepare to call the next name, I prepare to stand up victoriously and then non-chalantly parade past the rest of the hungry/ailing/whatever schlubs still waiting. But most of the time, it’s not my name they call.

Instead, it’s Frank, or Diane, or if it’s a fancy restaurant, Wilkenson or Miller. But do I sulk? No. For some reason, I automatically assume it’s a Frank, Diane, Wilkenson or Miller that I know personally. I start looking for these people to say an awkward “hi” as they pass me on the way to the front.

What makes it even better is when there’s a name for whom I don’t have an obvious acquaintance. Conrad…Conrad…hmm. I start cycling through my mental rolodex in search of a Conrad. Little League teammates, people I vaguely remember from high school, ex-colleagues… there must be a Conrad somewhere. Then I see the person pass and realize I don’t actually know him from anywhere.

But now I know him from this place. He is the Conrad I didn’t know until today. And the next time Conrad is called on a waiting list while I’m waiting, he’s coming to mind. And that’s how I waste the space in my brain.

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