Perhaps I should explain this. I went with my mum to the local Uni recently; I looking into going next year to study a Double Major of Japanese and Creative Writing. This scene was when we were in line to talk to Admissions.
My feet are sore; strained, burning heels. I rock back and forth, fidgeting. How much longer?
“Do you need to go to the toilet?” mom asks.
“No, I don’t,” I say. I don’t say I’m fine, because I’m bored, and my feet ache.
How much longer? When are these people done? How much bloody longer, already?
Finally, someone is free to ask. “Can I help you?” she asks.
Before I can respond, mum says, “We’re just waiting.”
Oh, that is so cryptic. I hope the woman understands…
“Okay,” the woman says, and passes on.
Dammit, mum, you had one job! I should’ve just talked.
“Can you help us?” mum calls, and the woman comes back.
Relief. Answers, finally.