From the Post Office Line
February 5, 2013

Woman wearing sunglasses—indoors—and tights covered in palm trees
with a heavy-looking brown coat with fur trim

People in front of me talking Algorithms, and
someone else wearing an Amelia Earhart hat

1, 2, 3, 15 people in line

The woman behind the desk shouts: “anyone just dropping stuff off?”
and those who nod yes are directed to the front

I wish they’d scream, “anyone budgeted their time poorly?”

Person after person who clearly hasn’t rehearsed
his speech and request as I have make it to the front of the desk

Stamps. Tax refunds. Confusion.

Other people move against the flow of traffic

“See you at school!” and
“There’s a Raven’s shirt for my five year old nephew in here. Are you a fan?”

The woman behind the desk does not
look like she’s a fan of much.

My turn.

At the Grocery Store
March 19, 2013 | 3:21 pm

There’s a man yelling at the milk.
little girls cutting me off.
internally, I sing, “Move B, Get out the Way
get out the Way, B, get out the way)
but it’s unedited in my head

There’s another man yelling about
how he might be sick this weekend
shoppers’ card—unrelated—
talking on the phone about a very personal thing

Woman slaps her child and my eyes tear

I take on the self-check out
where machines announce everything I’m buying
and the associated costs