Waiting Rooms

They are so awkward. Everyone sits around, waiting. No one talks to each other. When someone new sits down, the entire room watches thinking, "I wonder why they're here." And what are you supposed to do while you are waiting? You cannot simply sit there doing nothing, because then the whole room will be convinced you are an idiot (who is unable to read), a creeper (as you watch other people), or mentally ill (if you stare at a wall, trying to avoid looking like a creeper). So, to avoid being labeled as idiot-creeper-mentally-ill, you casually pick up a magazine and pretend to be interested. Perhaps you really do care about what Fishing Monthly and Women's Weekly have to say. But I know that when I pick one up, I'm focused on feigning just enough interest for people to ignore and not talk to me. I flip the page at appropriate time intervals, waiting for my name to be called so I can get up and escape as fast as I can.

But really, who made it a rule that waiting rooms were to be so socially-awkward? I have never been to one where the people are cracking jokes, making conversation, and enjoying themselves. It just doesn't happen. I know, I know, it's probably because this is the only time some people get to be quiet and alone, and they just want to sit and enjoy the moment. For the rest of us, the situation is too weird to enjoy.

So on Wednesday of this week I had to go have a meeting with someone at my new workplace. And what did I have to do? You are such a fabulous guesser: wait in a waiting room. But this room wasn't even worthy of being called a 'waiting room.' For one thing, it wasn't even a room; it was a hallway with two chairs and a table carelessly assembled to one side. Secondly, there was NOTHING TO DO. No magazines. No pictures. Nothing except for a worn out directory of contact numbers for workers in the building.

To make matters worse, my appointment time was at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Do you know how many people decide to leave work at that time? A lot. So there I was, being stared at by every person that passed by. At first I tried to look at my shoes and ignore all eye contact. Later, I gave up and gave them a weak smile. After I had been sitting for about ten minutes, each person got a full-blown "Hi!" There was nothing else for me to do, and let's just say I got desperate. I tried to avoid my idiot-creeper-mentally-ill look, but I don't know how well that one turned out.

Oh, and did I mention the security guards? The first one was nice, offering to call the man I was supposed to meet with. And after sitting there for twenty minutes with no answer, he finally decided to take me by the guy's office, to find out that my appointment-man had been waiting for me and just decided not to answer his phone (he only listens to voicemail, I guess). So that's a great first impression on my part. Anyway, right before I wandered around the building with guard #1, guard #2 came to take his place. And he wasn't like that nice old security guard I talked about in this post. Oh no. You know those people that just give you the creeps? That make you want to grab a taser or your rape whistle? Well, he was one of those. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid," I thought to myself. I mean, you have to give people the benefit of the doubt, right? I did, but it didn't last long. When I got out of my appointment and was driving home with my mom, I come to find out he had offered to take me home if my mom couldn't . Him. Drive. Me. To. My. House. Even if you were trying to be nice, that's just weird.

Needless to say, I would rather have a waiting room with a bunch of boring magazines and unsocial people than one with an icky security guard. Or just no waiting room at all. That's cool too.