Sitting in the Waiting Room

I’m in the waiting room, and I have to laugh, because there’s this little old lady there, she’s wearing a shawl that reminds me of the sort of grandmother I’ve never had, you know, and she’s muttering to herself, getting herself in to a rage. She’s angry, because people who came after her are getting in first. She looks at me and mutters… I feel like she’s demanding an explanation from me: why does she have to wait so long? I grin at her, and say: Harter Tag, was? She’s old school, so she gives me a venomous look, but actually she’s softening, I can tell. What am I saying, she’s softening, I think, pfff, she can tell a victim when she sees one, she was in the damned war. Ration cards and breaking the queue to get a shred of meat. She knows time goes forwards. She knows… whatever, in any case she’s been through more than I have and should be respected for that although I couldn’t care less. She could probably beat me up. Humans are such animals.
doctor-73117_1920
I’m in the waiting room
everybody’s moving
please don’t leave me to remain
I’m in the waiting room
sitting in the waiting room, sitting in the waiting room, sitting in the waiting room, sitting in the… Waiting Room, from Fugazi.

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