Archived Story

Blind spots

Published 10:24am Wednesday, March 21, 2012

He sat, tapping his pencil on the desk, bouncing his left leg, as his client went on and on. “It is of particular interest to note our sales in September….”

Harold glanced at his watch, all the while wondering if this man would ever finish his monotonous monologue about mundane figures that meant nothing to no one. Harold yawned, but it sent no message to this one so oblivious to the misery of another.

“My gosh, man, bring it to a close,” he thought.

Finally, his client took a breath. An opening.

“I believe these figures will suffice, sir. Now if you will excuse me.”

With a handshake, he was gone as Harold closed his laptop and headed to the elevator. The wait for the ride down seemed ridiculously long, as did the ride itself. Even the linger for the doors to open appeared such a silly waste of time, as if everything had to be perfectly aligned before they slid in opposite directions.

He was the first out as his fast pace took him to a familiar parking space. Unlocking the doors remotely, he was in his car and gone before the onrush of other co-workers.

Pulling into traffic, the road was particularly congested. Harold blasted his horn as another forced their way in. Fuming, he changed to what looked like a faster lane, to no avail.

There he sat, like a turtle, moving feet instead of miles, as they cleaned up the accident ahead.

“Some idiot not paying attention,” he muttered.

He thought of all the time he was wasting and what he could be doing instead of sitting in this blame traffic, listening to the stupid radio amidst the backdrop of an idling motor.

Finally, the jam broke as the pace quickened. Harold pressed to make up for lost time as he zoomed past his fellow commuters and forged to his exit.

Yellow lights were no obstacle as he, after what seemed forever, whipped into his driveway.

Stepping into his abode, he removed his jacket and headed to wash up. Glancing to his right, he noticed his wife already seated, eating dinner.

“Honey, we waited but decided to go ahead and eat.”

“Damn,” he muttered, “she could have shown a little patience.”

REX ALPHIN of Walters is a farmer, businessman, author, county supervisor and contributing columnist for The Tidewater News. His email address is rexalphin@aol.com.

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