Not the Party Line

Imagine sitting in a waiting room with only one other person. Imagine that one other person being a teenager kicking her feet, pounding on her phone, clicking the phone cover on and off, sighing, and then sighing louder, grunting, snorting, answering the phone and asking the person that called her "WHAT? What do you want? I DON'T KNOW? She's in a meeting or something" then she plays more on the phone, gets up to lean on the arm of the door to look out, sits back down on the chair on top of her feet with the souls of her shoes on the cushion of the chair, click, click, click, music from the phone and then when I get up to hand my papers to the front desk, she moves over to the seat where I was sitting the entire time this was happening and purposefully sits down in it. When I turn around I ask her "So, are you really going to sit there?" She answered with a grunt and eyes that were double their normal size.

Yes, she sat there. Yes, I fear for the breeding, voting, driving future. Yes, I look around my low rent abode and feel shivers of gratitude. Yes, I wanted to slap the shit out of her.