I arrived at the Post Office and my heart sank into my ass at the sight of a horribly depressing line stretching the length of the building. No sooner had I taken my place behind some hot-tempered, bleach blonde flooz – huffing and puffing that she’d been kept waiting so long – than she ducked under the blue rope, leaving behind an offensive trail of cheap perfume and her coveted spot in line. Followed by the ten or twelve newcomers now behind me, I sashayed a few steps ahead to fill in the gap.
Five to eight-and-a-half minutes passed. I turned to check the time and before I could turn back around, a huge gust of bad perfume and blonde swept in from the North, damn near knocking me down and squeezing back into her original place in line – in front of me. No explanation as to where she’d gone… No acknowledgement of her rude return.
Brothers and Sisters: When you make that decision to step out of line like Blondie did, you have one of two options: You can either resign entirely, and forfeit your precious status in hierarchy; or you can turn to the person behind you, smile like a sonofabitch and politely say, “Listen – I know we barely know each other… I realize how little we have in common…. We’re from two completely different worlds… I know this is a big leap for both of us… But I wonder if you could see past all that for just a few minutes and be my friend long enough to hold my place in this line while I take care of some shit. Otherwise, you know as well as I do that all these other assholes are gonna send me back there… Don’t let them do it... Don't let them send me back.” By doing this, you enter into a time-honored and binding social contract I like to call “Holdsies.” Without it, you haven't a leg to stand on.
Being the First Lady of Passive-Aggressive, I began to huff and puff a bit myself and mumble under my breath. Picking up on my frustration, she turned a quarter of the way around and spat out, “I was here,” as justification for her rudeness.
“I was here”??? That’s all ya got??? You were there??? Yes, Lady… at one time you were there. And at one time, I had fabulous seats for The Lion King… That doesn’t afford me the right to storm the Minskoff and sit in them whenever I feel like catching the second act. How DARE you, Madame!?
"I was here..." HA!