![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Assault by Spoilerage
Dec. 4th, 2003 01:25 amSo I'm at the post office. On line. Trapped like a rat. Not minding being on line, since I knew what I was getting into and I have to transact my business there and yeah it's the holidays and whaddya gonna do. But there's the TV overhead. With the sound more than audible. Because, you know, human beings are incapable of standing in one area for more than sixty seconds without being entertained. It's not like they can think their own thoughts, review their mental grocery lists, read the paper, meditate on the array of shipping materials available from the USPS, or anything like that. So the TV is showing The Maltese Falcon. Now, okay, I'm like some kind of troglodyte or something, but I have never seen this movie. And sometime I would like to. And the DVD is at the end of the film, and it's showing me how the mystery turns out!
AGGGGGHHHH.
Do I stand there with my package under my arm and my fingers stuck in my ears going "La la la, la la la"? Or humming the Colonel Bogey March, which is what my family did when I was a kid and the TV show insisted on showing what it was going to show you before it showed you, and there was no remote control and no Mute button and by the time you got up to turn the sound down you'd already have seen the entire trailer?
Do I capitalize upon this opportunity to hone my mental discipline in Zenlike focus on the dialogues of other transactions, the sounds of traffic outside, the murmurous haunts of my own mind, anything but the impassioned conversation Humphrey Bogart is having in this movie?
As my distress reaches a fever pitch, the person ahead of me on the line turns to me to complain about how slow the line is and how until a minute ago they had only one clerk's window open in the entire post office.
Saved by the gripe.
AGGGGGHHHH.
Do I stand there with my package under my arm and my fingers stuck in my ears going "La la la, la la la"? Or humming the Colonel Bogey March, which is what my family did when I was a kid and the TV show insisted on showing what it was going to show you before it showed you, and there was no remote control and no Mute button and by the time you got up to turn the sound down you'd already have seen the entire trailer?
Do I capitalize upon this opportunity to hone my mental discipline in Zenlike focus on the dialogues of other transactions, the sounds of traffic outside, the murmurous haunts of my own mind, anything but the impassioned conversation Humphrey Bogart is having in this movie?
As my distress reaches a fever pitch, the person ahead of me on the line turns to me to complain about how slow the line is and how until a minute ago they had only one clerk's window open in the entire post office.
Saved by the gripe.
