Waiting For?

Waiting For? ©

By

Michael Casey

Well what are you waiting for today? I’m waiting for some news, and for the kids to come home from school, and then there is the little matter of the Lottery. It’s the only way I could give my girls a good start in life, if I were rich I’d do what my dad always said he’d do. He said he’d buy everybody a house, so I’d like to do the same, a house, a car and a puppy dog, and a bit of money too. It’s not gonna happen, it’s like expecting Trump not to lie.

Though if any Media people finally find me, a house, a big house, a car and a puppy dog is my Price, as well as 10million Pounds not Pence, and yes all after tax. Jeff Bezo where are you? We can all wait expectantly but reality kicks in and we know we have been waiting  in vain. But there is always hope. Like an airline crash and people wait near the notice boards, not understanding why the delay. Then the priests appear and you know something bad, very bad has happened. Hope evaporates into reality.

That’s killed the piece I’m writing, but hope is always there while we are waiting. We wait for exam results and our whole life depends on it, or so our kids think. The nails are bitten, the downcast looks pervade, girls hug each other, then finally the envelopes are passed out. At Cambridge I believe results used to be posted on a door for 300 years, then Political Correctness pervaded, so they are now passed out surreptitiously, as if they are STD results. God Help Us.

People are obsessed with being Cool, whatever that is. So they hide their feelings and get stress related illnesses instead. People pretend while they are waiting for this or that. For their first baby to be born, or their 6^th. Or the reverse can be true with Reality TV, over large emotions, while they are waiting for the lift to arrive, that’s elevator if you are American. People do different things while they are waiting. They may even read Waiting for Godot, if they are suffering it in English as I did.

I’ve just remember when I was waiting for a plane at Skipol on Good Friday 1998, on the way to Czech and Prague, I suffered something real bad. There was an American family, and the daughter was reading aloud in a monotone from the guide book to Prague. Her dad with a beard, it’s coming back to me now, listened attentively. I just thought what an agony for me over Easter. I must have prayed for deliverance, American tourists do deserve the reputation they have gained.

As for me I had a doctor as my host, with EuroAd model English teacher as a penfriend in Czech waiting for me. Who needs guide books? The big thing I remember was that I went to Easter Midnight Mass in Plzen or Pilsner to give it it’s European name. Yes the home of Larger and I was working for a market research company into alcohol sales back then. I also met a professional model while I was on holiday there and she visited Birmingham for a month and I taught her English, but that’s another story, Patricie Vaklova.

Back to Mass, the Mass lasted forever, as every possible permutation of Mass was included that Easter. Mass, with Baptism, Communion, Confirmation on top of regular Easter Mass. It lasted 3 hours, and my bladder was waiting to explode. YES EXPLODE. Then when it ended, I had to gate crash a hotel to empty my bladder. I just could not wait. So with empty bladder I asked the bouncer “do you speak English?” yes he replied, so I asked for the little bridge with statues. Only the bouncer could not help. He could speak English, but only “yes I speak English” So I asked a girl in the pitch dark, only she had not just been to Midnight Easter Mass, she was probably a prostitute, it was 3am now. So I blundered about and finally found the way home to my Dr host’s place.

Well my own daughter has just come home, she’s waiting for her 1^st set of mock GCSE results. She’s also waiting for her dinner, so I think enough of the waiting, now it’s time to be a waiter.