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Waiting

© Sean N. Zelda
The clock reads 9 o'clock on a gloomy day in May. It had been raining from morning until early afternoon, washing the oil, dirt and gasoline from the streets which at the moment remain wet. Nightfall has just recently cascaded over the landscape, and Nick and his two high school friends and ex-band mates are on their way to a jazz bar in downtown Detroit. Tiny light bulbs line the ceiling of the circular entry way, illuminating the night sky. The shining words CLIFF BELL’S stretch across the protruding half-circle. Nick opens the door and saxophone squeals escape. Straight ahead, Nick sees and hears that the sax man is accompanied by an upright bassist, a pianist and a drummer. An extended, oval-shaped bar is perched in the middle of the establishment. The group strolls counter-clockwise around it and each man finds a cushy seat at the bar, spots which offer an ideal view of the band.
They wait. It’s a busy Tuesday night at Cliff Bell’s so they have to give the bartender a few minutes before attempting to acquire recognition. She brings them waters to sip. They scan the drink menu. Everyone has made his decision, so Nick and the boys wait for the bartender to take their orders. A minute or so later, she comes back around. “Guinness, please.” “I’ll take a Stella Artois.” “Short’s Soft Parade for me.” They talk about old times as they wait for their drinks.
After three hours of enjoying good drinks, good conversation, and good music, the old friends decide it’s time to take off. Standing, Nick tries to get the bartender’s attention. She’s busy with other customers, so Nick waits. Eventually, he gets her attention. The men wait for the bartender to return with their respective bills. She brings them a single bill, begging that they “figure it out.” They do, but have to put the tab on one credit card, so they must wait for the bartender to take the card. Tick tock. “They’re busy, so you can’t blame her.” Tick tock. Ah, there she is. “Yes, just put it on this,” and Nick hands her the card. Now he and his friends have to wait for her to come back with the credit slips. Sixty seconds pass and she finally does. Nick signs the slippery slip of paper and they depart.
The friends get into Nick’s car and hit the road, immediately hitting a red light. They wait at the red light for 30 seconds or so before it flashes green. One friend, Drew, has to be up early for class, so Nick drops him off at his apartment in Midtown. Now Nick and his friend Ryan cruise into the suburbs. They hit another red light before getting to the freeway and thus, they wait.
In the morning, Ryan wakes up Nick, but Nick is too sleepy to open his eyes. Ryan waits for Nick to wake up on his own. This turns into an hour-long affair for Ryan, who kills the syndrome that is waiting by watching TV.
Nick finally wakes up to find Ryan on the couch waiting for him. “Nothing’s on,” Ryan says as Nick emerges from his bedroom door. “Let’s take a daytrip,” Nick says. “Let’s go to Ann Arbor.”
They start driving, hit a few red lights (more waiting) and merge onto the wait-free highway. For the next hour, they wait to reach Ann Arbor. Toying with the radio, Ryan decides to try his luck with a CD. Nick waits for him to pick one and put it in the CD player. He does, and they jam the Tallest Man on Earth while heading west toward their destination.
When they get into town, Nick realizes that he should pay a visit to the levee. Ryan waits for Nick to get out of his car, put his credit card in the slot and begin fueling. The transaction takes about three and a half minutes, but Nick has to return the fuel dispenser and put the gas cap back on. He does and Ryan is glad to be moving again.
Nick attended the University of Michigan the previous semester and still has a parking spot. They park near the Big House and wait for a bus to take them downtown. The bus takes ten minutes to arrive, so the boys wait for it. It pulls up and the boys are anxious to get moving again.
Once downtown, the friends trek along the streets, looking for somewhere good to eat. Craving Chinese food, Nick informs Ryan of a place where they give tons of food for a low price, TK Wu. They sit and wait for their waitress. A few minutes later, a young woman delivers waters. The guys take a minute to look over the menu. They choose their entrees and wait for the waitress to come back.
“I’ll have the almond boneless.” “Sweet and sour for me.” They talk and wait for their food. Seven minutes later, the waitress distributes the plates. “Enjoy,” she says. They eat. When they are finished, they wait for the waitress to come back so they can request their bills. She does after a few minutes, and after revealing that they are ready for checks, they wait for her to bring them. When she does, they wait for her to come back and take their cards. She comes back, acquires them, and they wait for her to return with credit card slips. A minute or so later, she does. They sign the slips and walk out the door.
It is estimated that any given person spends 45 to 62 minutes waiting per day. That adds up to three years of waiting in a lifetime. Waiting for drinks at the bar, waiting at a red light, waiting for true love. Okay, that last one might entail some pretty extensive waiting. But what about waiting for the computer to load, waiting for food, and waiting for the car to fill up with gasoline? How about waiting for the subway, waiting for the bus, waiting for someone to get out of bathroom? We wait constantly!
But waiting isn’t so bad. There are many things we can do while we wait. Read, scan our phones, talk to someone. Waiting doesn’t have to be something dreadful. As long as you have some way to stimulate your mind while you wait, like listening to music in the car at a red light, or reading a book while you wait for your food to arrive in a café. No, waiting doesn’t have to be such a terrible thing.

The friends are ready to depart Ann Arbor, so they wait for a bus to take them to the parking lot. In the meantime, they have an exhilarating conversation about writing a song when they get back.

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