Dadmissions on Line Cutters!

The last stop of the day was Jo-Ann fabrics. We didn’t WANT to endure the drama of standing in line while people painstakingly picked out one yard of 75 different designs for their holiday creations but we needed to. They have a big, red, deli sign that says “Take A Number and continue to shop”. So we did. Seemed simple enough. There was a big line though and nobody strayed far. Eventually we got our stuff and just stood around the counter waiting for our number to be called.. or waiting for the store to close at the end of the night.. whichever came first. There was a mom with her kid who clearly didn’t have a number. She knew it. I knew it. And her kid knew it. She kept looking a my number. I could see it. And her kid saw the sign. “Mom, look it says take a number”. “We don’t need one”. “Mom are you sure? Look at the sign it says take a number and continue to shop”. “It’s OK” she said, “We don’t need one.” I was waiting for my big chance, waiting for number 83 to be called, and just watching and waiting to see how this all played out. Sure enough, between 80 something and my number she made her move with her daughter to the counter and the hideous leopard print she had hand picked. “Hi we didn’t realize we needed to take a number, and blah blah blahhhhh”. I say blah blah blahhhhh because by that time my blood was boiling and she sounded like the teacher in Charlie Brown- just noise taking up space. I lifted our big pile of fabric above my head, thought about throwing it, and instead turned to my wife using the fabric as cover and said, “She’s lying. I know she’s lying. I watched the whole thing. She’s lying”. “Her kid knows it too”. My wife asked me to tone it down a couple of notches but I was miffed. I could have said “Hey, you’re lying”… Or… “Hey nice job teaching your kid to lie”…. Or “WTH, c’mon lady we all want to get out of this fabric hell hole”. But I didn’t. I held my tongue. Somehow, right or wrong, I felt bad about calling her out as a total liar in front of her kid. Maybe the kid realizes it already. Or maybe she’ll keep justifying to the kid how she didn’t see the huge, deli-size number machine and the big, red LED numbers flashing above the fabric counter, or the employee in the shrill voice who kept calling out the numbers like it was a bingo parlor. In the end, the world can be divided into two people…the line waiters and the line cutters. I’m a line waiter. And maybe that means it’ll always take me a little longer. Maybe that means some people might jump ahead of me. Whatever. Life’s too short. I never want to have to explain to my kids why it says “Take A Number” but we still decided we’re better than the rules and everyone else who follows them. Hope she enjoys that leopard print 🙂

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About dadmissions

author of Dadmissions. surrounded by a wife and two girls... and a dog named Cupcake
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