Longue Duree, EXTENDING LIFE, by David B. Alexander
I hate standing in lines
Pg. 217I waddled through the line at Customs and Immigration. Today it was extremely slow. There was a Puerto Rican family in front of me. They were a young couple with a new baby that was carried by the mother, and a young boy about six years old. The boy kept looking at my beard, and how tall I was compared to his father.
I started waddling back and forth with
exaggerated waddles. The boy smiled and sometimes laughed. The line finally
moved another six feet. I looked at him
and looked at his little brother. I looked at him
and looked at his little brother again. The boy was catching on and smiling ear
to ear waiting for me.
“mmmMMMMMMMoooooooo!”
I said. The baby’s eyes got huge. It looked like it’s head may explode.
Suddenly its face turned bright red and “WWWWHHHHHAAAA!” The boy blew his gum
two rows away. I just stood there acting innocent, as the boy could not stop
laughing.
“NEXT!” I hate standing in lines.
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