Waiting on a Plastic Chair

 

The waiting room wasn’t all that big.  The walls were lined with cheap plastic chairs.  There was one window-type opening in one of the walls, behind which sat a lady with forms, pens and clipboards.  There was no music or noise of any kind.

 

Before I entered the room I had noticed a few vending machines in the hall.  I was hoping one of them held coffee.  I introduced myself at the window and the lady handed me a clipboard and pen.  She said to fill out the form that was on the clipboard and then return it to her.

 

I sat across the room from the door.  I wanted to pay attention to whoever was coming in, not sure why.  I guess I’m just a people watcher.  I noticed two things the moment I sat down.  The chairs were hard and uncomfortable and there was a small table across from me against the opposite wall.  It was piled with magazines.  Higher up on the wall was a clock.  The time was eleven minutes past eight.  I must be the first customer of the day.

 

Directly across from the door I came in was a closed door.  I had not noticed it right away, but it made sense.  That must be where you go when they call your name.  As I started filling out the form the scratching sound the pen made on the paper was very noticeable and annoying.  Not only were these chairs cheap, but these pens were awful as well.  I just kept scratching out my information.

 

Once my form was complete, I went back to the window and handed it to the lady.  She never even looked up.  She just took the clipboard and said, “We’ll call you.  Have a seat.”  I went over to the magazines and picked the one on top of the pile, then headed back to my chair.  Sitting down again I was instantly reminded just how uncomfortable the chairs were.  Surely, they must know this.

 

Life Magazine was at least twice the size of a standard magazine.  Everything was big.  The color pictures were large and the print was certainly a good size.  It was very easy to read.  Although looking at the magazine, my mind was wondering how they had decided on this particular size.  I mean, this is a big magazine.  Why this size?  The phrase, bigger than life, sprung to mind.  I guess that’s what they were going for.  Who knows?

 

It was 8:21 when the next people came in.  It looked to be a grandmother and her granddaughter.  She took a clipboard from the window lady, and the little girl followed her to a spot across from me, next to the magazine table. The minute her pen began to scratch against the form, she looked up at me, as if apologizing for the noise.  I just gave her a shrug, letting her know it couldn’t be helped.  Meanwhile, the little girl had found a coloring book within the pile and took it to the chair next to her grandmother.  Even though it had already been colored, she didn’t seem to care. 

She just began looking at every page, as if it were the Wall Street Journal, and she was checking on her investments.

 

Two women and a teenage gum-chewing boy came in.  Each was given a clipboard with the same instructions, fill it out and return it to her.  The room quickly filled with the scratching noise of pens, and the occasional pop of gum.  Had it not been so annoying, it might have been entertaining.  By 9:58 all the chairs were filled, and the sound was now etched in my brain.  For a minute or two the gum-chewer disappeared into the hallway and then returned without his gum, but with a Dad’s root beer from the vending machine.  For having that many people in a small room like that, I was surprised no one was talking.  We were all just sitting, looking at each other and wondering how long this was going to take.