Day 197 - Line Story

Line Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

The line hadn’t moved in an hour. This was fairly common. Long lines were to be expected. That’s how it always was at the conventions. There were too many people and not enough seats and a person would spend half the day waiting to get into a crowded room just to catch a glimpse of some pop culture icon.

John sat on the ground underneath a tent. He was one of the lucky ones. Just a little further back in line the tents ended and people had to sit or stand in the blazing sun. John had been out in the sun just an hour ago but fortunately the line had moved just enough for him to find a little shade. He still had his hat and sunglasses on. There was no reason to look one of these strangers directly in the eyes.

John sat and pretended to read. Right in front of him was a group of college-aged kids. Things had been fine for the first few hours of waiting in line, but then for some brilliant reason one of the guys had decided he had had enough of his current girlfriend and broke up with her. Right there in line. John had heard it all. It was one of the weakest breakups ever. Basically the guy said he was done with the line and done with her. She had begged him to stay, but he was having none of it. And off he went. John wondered if they had all driven together and if the guy had a way home, but he kept that question to himself. There was no need to throw himself into their drama. Secretly he hoped the girl had driven and that the guy would soon realize he was stranded. That would be awesome.

The girl began to cry. Not just a whimpering soft cry, but loud bawling. This went on for some time while all her friends tried to console her. The volume had gone down, but John could tell the tears were still coming. John pretended to read his book and tried to ignore them. It was impossible.

“Why would you stay in line like that? She should just leave,” commented a nearby female voice.

There was no reply. John didn’t know who was talking, but he had assumed they were asking one of their friends that question and that it wasn’t an open ended question or directed towards him.

“It’s really not fair to the rest of us,” commented the same female voice.

Again, there was no response.

“Oh come on, I can tell you notice it too. You’ve got your nose stuck in that book, but there’s no way you’re actually reading.”

That time, John was pretty sure she was talking to him. He looked up from the book and turned to see who was speaking. A little behind and to his left sat a young woman about his age. She wore a t-shirt with the definition of ironic on it. She had her hair in side braids and wore Buddy Holly style glasses. He liked her style immediately.

“You’re talking to me?” he asked, still slightly unsure.

“Jesus you’re slow. Are you always this slow in conversation? Maybe you should go back to pretending to read your book.”

“Oh. Okay.”

John looked away, slightly wounded. She realized this immediately.

“Kidding. I was kidding. Jesus, you really are that slow.”

“I’m just not used to strangers suddenly verbally accosting me.”

“Strangers? I’ve been next to you for the last three hours. We’re practically married.”

She was far more socially aggressive than he was. He knew immediately that this conversation was not going to go well.

“So waterworks up there is pretty sad, right?”

“Yeah I guess.” He didn’t know what to say to her.

“What sort of dick breaks up with a girl and traps us with the aftermath? Here we all are. Stuck. And we have to watch one of the worst days in her life. Total dick.”

“Last year I saw a couple make out in line for like an hour. I’m not sure which was worse.”

“Are you asking me to make out with you?”

“Oh, I didn’t-- I was making a joke.”

“Relax. You aren’t going to offend me.”

“You want to play cards? I brought a deck of cards.”

“I was thinking about getting a drink. You want to skip out with me?”

John had been in line for nearly four hours. It was hot out and he was tired. He didn’t have the endurance or energy to properly try and impress this girl. Plus he really wanted to get inside the convention hall. He told himself a thousand reasons why this was not going to work. But a potential chance trumped all of those. He had to try, right? He had to. He told himself he had to.

“Okay, but the first round is on you.”

They got up and lost their place in line. Almost as soon as they did, the line began to creep forwards again. The girl that had been dumped finally stopped crying and grew quiet. The rest of the people remaining in line were very appreciative.