ignika98 on Nostr: 102. That was your number. Printed with black ink on a red ticket like one of those ...
102. That was your number. Printed with black ink on a red ticket like one of those old delis. You’ve been here for hours.
You run your finger along the creases you made from holding the ticket in your hand this entire time. After all, you wouldn’t want to reach the counter only to realize it fell out of your pocket while you were waiting in line.
You overhear the lady at the counter yell something about “not bringin’ dem pay-pers”. Whatever that means. An older man shuffles away from the counter, his eyes staring down at the floor. You’re next.
Your head jolts upwards, locking eyes with the woman behind the counter. She glares at you, tapping her nails on the desk as you approach with your ticket firmly in hand.
She looks away.
“E-excuse me…” You meekly blurt out. But she doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence.
“I’m here to-“
You’re interrupted by the sound of clanging jewelry as the woman swings her arm towards you with an outstretched palm. She must have at least 7 bracelets on one arm, you think to yourself. And her nails are disgusting.
Her lips smack together as she takes out her phone and starts thumbing away at it with her free hand. You decide to wait a moment. Anxiously tapping the tips of your fingers together as your eyes dart back and forth.
Wait, why is no one in line behind you?
Suddenly, the woman looks your way. You lock eyes with her once more.
“Yes, I’d like to-”
She smacks her lips again. She looks annoyed this time. Rather, she looks even more annoyed than before. Her cheek flaps shudder as her mouth swings open. And she yells:
“AM AWN BREAK!”
Those words shake you to your very core. You clench your fist, smudging the number on your ticket. You wouldn’t need it anyways. You don’t have the energy to argue right now. You could go in another line, but you’ve been here for hours.
You shuffle away, noticing a pile of chewed gum on the floor next to the counter as you head towards the exit.
At the door, you pass a sign that says “Next time, skip the line! Book your appointment through the app!” with a QR code underneath it. The sign is worn and scratched to hell, but the code should still work. For a second you think of maybe taking the signs advice next time.
You won’t, though.
You run your finger along the creases you made from holding the ticket in your hand this entire time. After all, you wouldn’t want to reach the counter only to realize it fell out of your pocket while you were waiting in line.
You overhear the lady at the counter yell something about “not bringin’ dem pay-pers”. Whatever that means. An older man shuffles away from the counter, his eyes staring down at the floor. You’re next.
Your head jolts upwards, locking eyes with the woman behind the counter. She glares at you, tapping her nails on the desk as you approach with your ticket firmly in hand.
She looks away.
“E-excuse me…” You meekly blurt out. But she doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence.
“I’m here to-“
You’re interrupted by the sound of clanging jewelry as the woman swings her arm towards you with an outstretched palm. She must have at least 7 bracelets on one arm, you think to yourself. And her nails are disgusting.
Her lips smack together as she takes out her phone and starts thumbing away at it with her free hand. You decide to wait a moment. Anxiously tapping the tips of your fingers together as your eyes dart back and forth.
Wait, why is no one in line behind you?
Suddenly, the woman looks your way. You lock eyes with her once more.
“Yes, I’d like to-”
She smacks her lips again. She looks annoyed this time. Rather, she looks even more annoyed than before. Her cheek flaps shudder as her mouth swings open. And she yells:
“AM AWN BREAK!”
Those words shake you to your very core. You clench your fist, smudging the number on your ticket. You wouldn’t need it anyways. You don’t have the energy to argue right now. You could go in another line, but you’ve been here for hours.
You shuffle away, noticing a pile of chewed gum on the floor next to the counter as you head towards the exit.
At the door, you pass a sign that says “Next time, skip the line! Book your appointment through the app!” with a QR code underneath it. The sign is worn and scratched to hell, but the code should still work. For a second you think of maybe taking the signs advice next time.
You won’t, though.
quoting note1sap…zsze
