The Old Coot found his happy place

I’m in a “time out” zone at a large shopping mall. I call it the husband corral. But, like Br’er Rabbit, when Br’er Fox and Br’er Wolf threw him into a briar patch, I’m in my “happy” place. (Can’t relate to the Br’er Rabbit comparison? Too far back in time for you to have heard of it? Then, look it up, Google it.)

Anyhow, when I’m in a mall on a bench, I’m happy; I’m doing my favorite thing: watching people and writing. Men in their first shopping time-out fidget in their seat and complain about it to us old guys, but we offer no sympathy. They have to learn to entertain themselves when in the husband corral. We did. 

Some of them were sent to the corral because when they tagged along with their wives they acted like a five year old, tugging at mommy’s skirt and asking again and again, “Can we go now?” Time out on a bench is what they get for their whining.

These new recruits whine out loud, “She said she’d be right back.” That’s what they heard, but not what she meant. A translation of “right back” doesn’t have a numerical value; it can vary from five minutes (something that almost never happens) to thirty minutes or more. 

It’s fun to try to guess when a time out sentence will conclude. And to wonder if the sentence will be commuted, or that you will go on parole and be moved to a new time out zone outside a different store. I’ve played the guessing game for decades, wondering how long my sentence would be. I seldom guessed right. 

But I don’t care; I’m in my “Happy Place,” and today it gave me this essay. The most important part of a new recruit’s training is to apply the Boy Scout Motto, “Be prepared.” Prepared to entertain yourself on a bench by watching people, reading, or like me, writing about what you see and counting the sighs and whines of new convicts in the husband corral. Eventually, you’ll look forward to a shopping trip. I know I do.