Short Story: Decisions, Decisions…

I’ve been stood here for too long, trying to make a decision. I know I’m taking too long. I just know it. This isn’t normal. It’s not. I’m not normal! She’s getting impatient. I thought I’d made my decision but now she’s asking me questions, making me clarify my decision, making me add extra nuances. It’s like time has slowed and I’m having to use all my energy to concentrate on making this one decision. Too many. Too many decisions today. Too many decisions in life. What if I make the wrong one? What if I say yes and it all goes disastrously? What if I say no and regret it? There is so much riding on it. Or is there? Perhaps the rest of my life, perhaps not.

katie-price-hot-pink-nails-manicure.pngI can see her. I can’t focus on her, because my brain is whirring too fast with the pressure of this decision, but I can see her. She’s tapping her finger impatiently on the counter top. Doesn’t she know how distracting that is? Doesn’t she know that the tip tap tip tap of her bright pink nails and the chew chew of her chewing gum are really making this decision harder than it should be? She lets out a little snort of derision but tries to cover it with a false cough. At least she has that decency. I hunch my shoulders deeper, my hands clasping onto my shopping bag, and I screw my eyes shut as I try to concentrate. Just a minute! Just a minute! I want to scream at her. It’s hard for me! Just give me one more minute!

There’s huffs too. Other people. Stood behind me and around me, everywhere like ants. Impatient. It’s okay for them though. They don’t understand. They have it so easy. It seems like everyone else can make decisions like this at the drop of a hat but me…well, perhaps my wife is right when she says I overthink things. Maybe I should just throw caution to the wind. Shhhush everyone! Can’t you all just be quiet for one moment?

“Sir?” Pink Nails says, a minty aroma wafting from her gum-stuffed mouth.

“C’mon mister!” a ruffian shouts from behind me. I shiver. He’s the kind of guy my mother warned me about.

“Sir,” Pink Nails says again. “I can’t put your order through without an answer. Do you want fries with that?”


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