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The sort of folks who sleepwalk their way around town with nary a thought to those who actually are on a schedule, or have someplace to be, or have figured out for themselves a long time ago how the world works. You see this on airplanes a lot… every once in a while there’ll be a guy who’ll stand in the middle of the aisle with a guitar case looking like a lost sheep because the guitar won’t fit under the seat in front of him. I can’t believe this is his first time on a plane…

Anyway.

I’ll go so far as to say that perhaps this particular behavior I’m about to elucidate for your edification (and my off-staving of that incipient angio plasty) is that these (and there’s no other word for it) bastards are inflict ing on me just by their very existence... is... endemic upon this great big land of ours as well.

The whole country, that is.

What is is that disturbs, you, Larry? The folks that just don’t have the con cept of standing in line.

Picture this: I’m standing in line at the local Post Office, where the men and women of the U. S. Postal Service whisk millions of pieces of mail all around the country for the small price of 34¢ an ounce, first class. I’ve got tucked under my arm a package that’ll be $3.50, priority mail. I know this going in, and, to speed along the process, have thoughtfully pulled out four George Washingtons and have got ‘em clutched firmly in my hand. There’s about five people ahead of me. Let’s review ‘em, shall we? 1. Old Lady Jones. OK, for some reason, the frail little old lady at the front of the line feels the need to pay for her three books of stamps with pen nies. Great. Actually, this doesn’t raise the ol’ hackles that much because she probably was a WAC in the Big One. God bless her. I’ll practice my Zen. 2. Skippy the Smack Addict. There’s some unwashed, six-foot, 120 pound speed freak vibrating like he’s from Earth-2. Calm down, Skippy. You’re next in line. Deal with it. You’re almost there. 3. Olive Oyl and Swee’ Pea. This lady is always good for a laugh. "What kind of stamps do you have? Do you have the flowers? Do you have the ‘LOVE’ stamp? What about Bugs Bunny? How can you be out of Bugs Bunny?" Lady, NO ONE CARES. They’re 34¢. Just send your goddamn phone bill with whatever stamp they give you. No matter what the stamp folks say, you’re not making a statement with your postage.

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