THE WAITING ROOM

 

by

 

Mae Ondracek

 © 2001

 

 

            As I sit in the waiting room at the doctors’ office, I enjoy studying the people waiting their turn.  The man reading the newspaper keeps wrinkling up his nose; the man next to him keeps licking his lips as if they are very dry.  A woman reading a magazine talks aloud, to herself, every once in a while.

          Then the outside door swings open and an elderly couple enters.  He is tall, slender and fairly good-looking.   He removes his coat and hangs it over a chair back, then helps his wife remove her coat and hangs it over the next chair, as she walks up to the window to sign in.

          She is short and heavy set, wearing a cotton tent-type dress which falls to just below her knees in front but a little higher in back, which causes her to tug, pull, and smooth it over voluptuous backside as she turns around.  Her fingers seemed to be stiff as she pulled at her dress, but there was no outward sign of disfigurement from arthritis.

          She has a small round face with tiny beady eyes that darts a quick glance at each person sitting there.  Her husband stood up, smiled at her, took her arm, and helped her to sit down, after which a huge sigh of relief escapes her tiny-pursed lips.

          Her legs are swollen, from water retention, I’m guessing.   She has on support hose that hug every bend and curve of those swollen legs.  Her black, low-heeled boots are over the ankle type and of a cheaper grade of imitation leather, as the surfaces are scratched and peeling, suggesting they are quite old.

          Her most pleasing feature is her hair.  It is salt and pepper colored, short, not quite shoulder length.  It is straight but there is a suggestion of soft curves surrounding her face, which takes some of the harshness away from her features.

          Overall, she is not a pretty woman, but her husband must think she is, as he has one arm around her shoulders, smiles at her and carefully pats her hands, which are lying, in her lap.

          My observations come to a halt as the nurse calls my name and I enter the door that cuts me off from my waiting room friends.

         

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