Everyone Has A Story

"Learn to appreciate the little things in life, because the big things will either cost more than you have or take more time than you've got left."

I found myself in the waiting room of our local police station last night. To be fair, I got there mid-afternoon and just happened to continue loitering into the early hours of that evening. Although not as efficiently run as my long-spanning viewership of Law & Order would lead me to believe, I was nonetheless amused. In fact, I would readily admit to being "guffawed" if I suspected that to be a real word. 

Right off the bat, I was struck by two observations: First, I was far more comfortable surrounded by colorful creatures with questionable rap sheets than I might be in, say, a mall. There's something fabulous to be said for people who perceive themselves in no position to readily judge another. Second, it seems my hearing/eavesdropping skills are far sharper than I initially suspected. I'll go ahead and throw a third observation in the mix for no reason beyond combating my assertion that I had only soaked in two such findings within 5 minutes of setting foot in those formidable glass doors: I am not the ninja I'd like to think I am. As I clearly hear better when I turn my head in the direction of the conversation, I'm not very subtle when staring at those whose business I'm nosing blissfully about in. 

Funny thing about police stations, there is no discernible regard for the privacy of others and/or their business. It's not like the waiting room of an OB-GYN where your first name is awkwardly whispered by the attending nurse. Even having a seemingly non-complex first name such as "Annie" can produce moments of entertainment when it's pronounced "Andy?" in an otherwise nonexistent Minnesotan accent. Nope. In a police station, the staff will proudly announce your full first, middle and last name with shocking clarity, not to mention booming pomp and circumstance. This all led to even more fascination with the reaction of the first gentleman called...

"JOHN JAMES THOMPSON? IS THERE A JOHN JAMES THOMPSON?"* (Notice no breath was actually even taken in between to allow for a prompt response)

*yes, yes, the name has been altered to protect the identity of the individual involved..... Although the employees at aforementioned police station would never willingly submit to such consideration....Just sayin'.

The response: "YES. THAT WOULD BE ME." comes this thunderous voice from a gentleman looking suspiciously like the grandfather from Silver Spoons. The best part? He finished reading his article in the newspaper before carefully folding it up, placing it delicately back into his briefcase, checking his shoes to ensure laces were properly tied, then retreating to the room down the hall. No sense of urgency whatsoever. No hint of shame at being part of our motley little crew. In fact, one might suspect he had just won a prestigious award and was collecting himself before delivering the most brilliant speech ever penned by man. Awesome!
Yep - That's the one!
Next up to bat was a special sneak preview of "Thelma & Louise: Where Are They Now? - 50 Years Later". The entertainment packed into those pint-sized white-haired cuties sporting Daisy Dukes and Blue Blockers was pure gold. They had apparently just returned from a drinking binge in N'Orleans only to discover some brute had stolen Thelma's American Express. My waiting room neighbor insisted on providing me a status update of the names on the clipboard at the most inopportune times, or I would have gotten the skinny on EXACTLY what purchases were made on said American Express. 

In those fleeting moments where the publicized dialogue would become hushed or altogether missing, I would make up stories in my head to properly fill in the plot gaps. All in all, it was a delectable adventure I'm not soon to forget. In fact, I think I'm rather going to miss that place. Perhaps not enough to embark upon some caper about town, but certainly enough to mull spending some well-earned vacation time back in that lobby in the near future. Any takers? Happy Tuesday, Pets.


2 comments:

  1. Everyone has a story, and here's to us: who have finally found our voice.

    Thanks for making the world a little bit more interesting, wonderful one.

    ReplyDelete
  2. *smile* The thanks go to you, My Sweet Empress, for encouraging me, supporting me and treating me with such kindness. These can all be foreign things in an often unfamiliar world. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete

Kitty

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Everyone Has A Story

"Learn to appreciate the little things in life, because the big things will either cost more than you have or take more time than you've got left."

I found myself in the waiting room of our local police station last night. To be fair, I got there mid-afternoon and just happened to continue loitering into the early hours of that evening. Although not as efficiently run as my long-spanning viewership of Law & Order would lead me to believe, I was nonetheless amused. In fact, I would readily admit to being "guffawed" if I suspected that to be a real word. 

Right off the bat, I was struck by two observations: First, I was far more comfortable surrounded by colorful creatures with questionable rap sheets than I might be in, say, a mall. There's something fabulous to be said for people who perceive themselves in no position to readily judge another. Second, it seems my hearing/eavesdropping skills are far sharper than I initially suspected. I'll go ahead and throw a third observation in the mix for no reason beyond combating my assertion that I had only soaked in two such findings within 5 minutes of setting foot in those formidable glass doors: I am not the ninja I'd like to think I am. As I clearly hear better when I turn my head in the direction of the conversation, I'm not very subtle when staring at those whose business I'm nosing blissfully about in. 

Funny thing about police stations, there is no discernible regard for the privacy of others and/or their business. It's not like the waiting room of an OB-GYN where your first name is awkwardly whispered by the attending nurse. Even having a seemingly non-complex first name such as "Annie" can produce moments of entertainment when it's pronounced "Andy?" in an otherwise nonexistent Minnesotan accent. Nope. In a police station, the staff will proudly announce your full first, middle and last name with shocking clarity, not to mention booming pomp and circumstance. This all led to even more fascination with the reaction of the first gentleman called...

"JOHN JAMES THOMPSON? IS THERE A JOHN JAMES THOMPSON?"* (Notice no breath was actually even taken in between to allow for a prompt response)

*yes, yes, the name has been altered to protect the identity of the individual involved..... Although the employees at aforementioned police station would never willingly submit to such consideration....Just sayin'.

The response: "YES. THAT WOULD BE ME." comes this thunderous voice from a gentleman looking suspiciously like the grandfather from Silver Spoons. The best part? He finished reading his article in the newspaper before carefully folding it up, placing it delicately back into his briefcase, checking his shoes to ensure laces were properly tied, then retreating to the room down the hall. No sense of urgency whatsoever. No hint of shame at being part of our motley little crew. In fact, one might suspect he had just won a prestigious award and was collecting himself before delivering the most brilliant speech ever penned by man. Awesome!
Yep - That's the one!
Next up to bat was a special sneak preview of "Thelma & Louise: Where Are They Now? - 50 Years Later". The entertainment packed into those pint-sized white-haired cuties sporting Daisy Dukes and Blue Blockers was pure gold. They had apparently just returned from a drinking binge in N'Orleans only to discover some brute had stolen Thelma's American Express. My waiting room neighbor insisted on providing me a status update of the names on the clipboard at the most inopportune times, or I would have gotten the skinny on EXACTLY what purchases were made on said American Express. 

In those fleeting moments where the publicized dialogue would become hushed or altogether missing, I would make up stories in my head to properly fill in the plot gaps. All in all, it was a delectable adventure I'm not soon to forget. In fact, I think I'm rather going to miss that place. Perhaps not enough to embark upon some caper about town, but certainly enough to mull spending some well-earned vacation time back in that lobby in the near future. Any takers? Happy Tuesday, Pets.


2 comments:

  1. Everyone has a story, and here's to us: who have finally found our voice.

    Thanks for making the world a little bit more interesting, wonderful one.

    ReplyDelete
  2. *smile* The thanks go to you, My Sweet Empress, for encouraging me, supporting me and treating me with such kindness. These can all be foreign things in an often unfamiliar world. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete