That time waiting
While waiting for someone I know to have an operation, I found myself sitting amongst a variety of folk doing the same thing. Hanging around clinics or hospitals is not on my list of favourite things to do. My mind wandered a little, considering the subject of waiting. What was I during the wait? Writing this...
It probably doesn't matter where you are in the world, there is always that time you will have to wait. You've arrived at the airport or station with all the expectancy of your trip running through your mind. Imagination takes hold with thoughts of what will take place: who you might meet, will the bed be comfortable and what kind of food is there.
Various people are also waiting, more than likely having similar thoughts running through their heads as you do. Today many are iPhone Lemmings, locked into their smartphones oblivious to the reality going on around them. A family is nearby, the small children playing with toys and will eventually become bored, restless and probably start crying. A guy is reading a thick book, the cover says Lord of the Rings. Across the way, on a sort of bench is some kid asleep with his head on a blue and somewhat threadbare backpack, looks like he's heading for SE Asia. A couple, most likely in their thirties, have two small wheelie suitcases of the same color and are drinking a cup of coffee each.
Some ways off, is this guy going up to people as they come through the main door. He approaches them holding a piece of paper in his hand. It is a fake ticket and he tries to sell it to them. He doesn't last long as he sees the airport police heading his way and legs it out the door, which had opened for a few incoming people. Will they catch him?
Normally I arrive with plenty of time because my flights are usually in the wee hours of the morning. Checking in is done as early as possible, then I just hang around for a while until going through the security side of things. You stand in the line and again wait. Shuffling forward bit by bit until it's your turn. There they are, in front of you. Filling the plastic boxes with your stuff and when once finished return it all to your backpack etc. All the time watching nothing gets stolen. Once, in Gatwick Airport London, the security guy actually stole my Swiss Army Knife (a collectors item). I knew he stole it because I gave him a mouthful and he should have called the police but then Gatwick has a bad reputation for security staff dishonesty.
Once into the international area, it's back to waiting. Yourself along with many others, staring at the departure board to see when your flight is boarding. It's still much the same as before, just a different location. Finally it's time to head toward the departure gate, board the plane and try to get as much shuteye as you can because by now you're dog tired.
Once you've arrived you are probably in for more times of inactivity. This could be anything, hanging around for a bus, stuck outside in a taxi queue or having hours until the train leaves. Here the people are different. Not only those who have, like you, just arrived but also the locals doing this and that. They look at you and more often than not can see where you've come from just by the clothes you're wearing or the set of your face.
You stand back from the line and look around at it all. Then it hits you.
. . . . . . .
Time waits for no man.
It probably doesn't matter where you are in the world, there is always that time you will have to wait. You've arrived at the airport or station with all the expectancy of your trip running through your mind. Imagination takes hold with thoughts of what will take place: who you might meet, will the bed be comfortable and what kind of food is there.
Various people are also waiting, more than likely having similar thoughts running through their heads as you do. Today many are iPhone Lemmings, locked into their smartphones oblivious to the reality going on around them. A family is nearby, the small children playing with toys and will eventually become bored, restless and probably start crying. A guy is reading a thick book, the cover says Lord of the Rings. Across the way, on a sort of bench is some kid asleep with his head on a blue and somewhat threadbare backpack, looks like he's heading for SE Asia. A couple, most likely in their thirties, have two small wheelie suitcases of the same color and are drinking a cup of coffee each.
Some ways off, is this guy going up to people as they come through the main door. He approaches them holding a piece of paper in his hand. It is a fake ticket and he tries to sell it to them. He doesn't last long as he sees the airport police heading his way and legs it out the door, which had opened for a few incoming people. Will they catch him?
Normally I arrive with plenty of time because my flights are usually in the wee hours of the morning. Checking in is done as early as possible, then I just hang around for a while until going through the security side of things. You stand in the line and again wait. Shuffling forward bit by bit until it's your turn. There they are, in front of you. Filling the plastic boxes with your stuff and when once finished return it all to your backpack etc. All the time watching nothing gets stolen. Once, in Gatwick Airport London, the security guy actually stole my Swiss Army Knife (a collectors item). I knew he stole it because I gave him a mouthful and he should have called the police but then Gatwick has a bad reputation for security staff dishonesty.
Once into the international area, it's back to waiting. Yourself along with many others, staring at the departure board to see when your flight is boarding. It's still much the same as before, just a different location. Finally it's time to head toward the departure gate, board the plane and try to get as much shuteye as you can because by now you're dog tired.
Finally on the way.
Once you've arrived you are probably in for more times of inactivity. This could be anything, hanging around for a bus, stuck outside in a taxi queue or having hours until the train leaves. Here the people are different. Not only those who have, like you, just arrived but also the locals doing this and that. They look at you and more often than not can see where you've come from just by the clothes you're wearing or the set of your face.
You stand back from the line and look around at it all. Then it hits you.
. . . . . . .
Time waits for no man.
Jul 02, 2023
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