IMPATIENT MAN MEETS SLOW MOVING LINE; NOT PRETTY

On a recent business trip, I booked my departing flight for Saturday afternoon rather than a weekday. For once I did not need to race to the airport directly from my office, when I usually cut it way too close and risk missing my plane. I was able to take a nice leisurely drive to the airport, and arrived with plenty of time to spare.

After getting my boarding pass, I got in line to go thru security. And then it started. I looked around and began fidgeting. “Why is this line going so slow?” I wondered. The line was indeed moving at a snail’s pace, but it was progressing.

(By the way, I did not encounter the TSA’s new “groin-grope” airport screening technique, which has caused such an uproar lately.)

You must understand, even if it took 45 minutes to get thru security, I still would’ve had close to an hour to wait for my flight. I was in no danger of being late. And yet, I didn’t care about that. The line was moving too darned slow. So I became frustrated. I just can’t stand waiting in slow-moving lines.

Then I noticed the other security line was moving more quickly. “Hey, wait a minute,” I muttered. “They’re moving faster than we are. Not fair!”

Let me be clear again. The plane on which I was scheduled to fly had not even arrived at the airport yet. The only way I could’ve possibly missed my flight was if I had accidentally left a loaded handgun in my carry-on bag, like a well-known area restaurant mogul recently did.

No matter how quickly I made it thru the security line, it still would be quite some time before I had to get on my plane. So what difference did it make if I spent a particular block of time standing in line or hanging around the boarding gate? To a sane person, the answer is obvious: no difference at all.

But to me, it made a big difference. The line was moving too bloody slow, and I didn’t like it. To add insult to injury (What insult?! What injury?!), another line was moving noticeably faster. So I grimaced. I paced in place. I put my hands on my hips indignantly and grunted, “Harrumph!”

People with knowledge about psychology surely could list a number of issues at play here: impatience, competition, frustration at not getting one’s way, and that very serious psychological disorder, which is epidemic nowadays, cranky-pants syndrome.

Luckily for me I don’t waste my time studying psychological theories. Instead I prefer to dedicate large clumps of brain cells to more important knowledge, such as memorizing batting statistics from the 1967 Boston Red Sox and being able to recite key lines of dialog from the movies “Casablanca” and “Caddy Shack.”

When I finally made it thru security, it turns out the entire ordeal of waiting took about 15 minutes. I gathered up my things and walked briskly to the boarding gate, where I saw my flight was on time, scheduled to depart at 2:25 p.m. I looked at my watch: 1:05 p.m. Boy, good thing my blood pressure went thru the roof while waiting in the security line. Who knows, if I had been relaxed and serene, I might not have made the gate with a mere 80 minutes to spare.

Then the display monitor changed. My flight was delayed and now would depart 30 minutes later than scheduled. I groaned, and in desperation I turned to prayer. Looking heavenward I pleaded, “Dear God, give me patience—and I want it NOW!”