Some of us are just waiting for the buzzer to go off

I've been on this floating rock for twenty three years now, and I can finally say that I'm starting to figure some things out.

My latest epiphany happened upon me while in the midst of a purchase at the local University bookstore (sorry, OCBS), or rather, just after the purchase. I'd just bought an Elmore Leonard novel and a blue book for that midterm I've mentioned before - it went well, by the way, no thanks to you - and was heading out the door when I noticed the sensors by the door. I hadn't stolen anything, but I'll be damned if I didn't feel at least a little bit of anxiety while walking through those doors. I held my breath as I passed through the sensors, expecting to hear a buzz and see the flashing lights. I expected to get dragged away like the foolish crook I imagine everyone else thinks me to be.

Then I started to think.

I live my entire life hoping not to get caught. It can be quite a dream to be alive in this day and age. I don't have everything I want, but I certainly have enough. I love my life, and maybe that's why I hold my breath sometimes. I expect anyday now, the guy at the big customer service desk in the sky - whom I'm still not convinced is paying attention - is going to yank me out of this apathetic, walking slumber I've submerged myself into and say, "Hey, not so fast. What have you got in the bags there?"

I hope that's not how everyone lives his(or her) life, dawdling around in the shop, wasting time until he(or she. Sorry, I'm fairly insensitive!) makes the final purchase.

Or what if you don't even get to finish shopping? I was lucky. I got what I wanted and was out of there, but I don't know that it's the way I want my whole life to go. Suppose I don't get to browse around in all the sections I want to? Suppose I don't just want crime fiction. What if I want a little poetry or political science. Perhaps a bit of history would do the trick. Damnit, the humor section was going to be next!

Ah, but not so fast.

You've been having too much fun in there, walking around and intimidating the cashiers with your flippant attitude toward the mores of how to behave in the store. You've been doing nothing with your time in the store. You admire all the books on the shelves - the ones that are eternal - and you have to get your sorry ass out of the store. It's closing time, bub. Pack up what you can while they turn out the lights and get the hell out of there.

Or, you can try to put something on the shelves, even if it is just a little bit of dust, or maybe a smudge or two.