Wait.
For her to get out of the car,
for her to find her cigarettes,
for her to find her lighter,
for her to light her cigarette,
for her to shuffle across the parking lot in slow motion,
for her to snuff her cigarette out on the sidewalk,
for her to shuffle into the bathroom,
for her to finish in the bathroom,
for her to shuffle out of the bathroom,
for her to examine the aisles, one by one, deciding what to buy,
for her to chitchat with the checker,
for her to find her half-smoked cigarette,
for her to find her lighter
for her to light her cigarette,
for her to shuffle across the parking lot in slow motion,
for her to finish her cigarette,
for her to get into the car.
In our life of frustration, this is the most common.
That a process requiring five minutes becomes elongated to forty minutes,
every day, sometimes twice a day, seven days a week.
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