4It was always five more minutes.
"Can I use the washroom?"
Five more minutes!
"Get up, you dolt of a sister. I'm going to be late!"
Five more minutes!
"Could I have a turn now?"
Five more minutes!
It's as if the entire world has something against me, whilst having a sick fascination with the despicable period of time that is five minutes. What about three minutes? Three is just as good of a number. I mean, it's smaller. It's horizontally symmetrical when you write the numeral out. It's the magic number in all fairytales… I mean, there are three bears in Goldilocks, three mice that are blind, three musketeers that are hardly musky…
Alright, I admit I'm going a little over the top. But I am sick of those pesky five minutes that always seem to get in the way of what I want. Those words have been the cause of incurable nail biting, psychotic leg spasms, and too many strands of hair being yanked out of my head. Why? When you have to stare at your watch for five minutes watching those seconds crawl by, there are only so many ways to trick your body into thinking it's doing productive.
My eyes threw daggers at the white bloused lady who tried to edge into my place in line. No way Miss Corporate! I woke up at 6:30 to bike all the way over here to plant myself behind Mr. Grumpy and his little girl in line. There was no way I would let her sneak pass.
Not that she could do any sneaking, by the looks of her heels. I mean, who would wear heels if they knew they would be standing in line? Idiot.
Glancing at my watch, I started tearing out strands of hair from my temple. It was still 7:55. Still five more minutes until the doors opened. Stop playing with me, you stupid mystical deities!
Well, Mr. Grumpy looks even grumpier now that I've sufficiently yelled loud enough to wake his girl up from her stroller. At least she has a stroller. She can rest her pretty My-Little-Pony-upped feet while I stand here trying to keep my foot from going back to sleep again. Man, if I had a stroller, I would flatten everyone in this line. I'd give this amazing evil laugh that would go on for four minutes, and four only, and I could have hysterical fun while still ensuring my spot.
Speaking of my spot… the doors have opened! The entire line charged passed the key holder, and made a dash for the stairs. My feet pound along with everyone else's as we eye the prize. I veer suddenly to the left, surprising Miss Corporate enough to get in front of her.
I couldn't believe she could run that fast in those shoes. That took skill.
But back to the action at hand. Mr. Grumpy had fallen behind because of his stroller, which gave me the false feeling of being in the clear. As it turns out, the door on the west side of the building had been opened up before the east door that I was at, which meant that six out of the seven rooms were already taken.
I watched as Miss Corporate's eyes zoned in on the last room. We made a mad dash on the homestretch, but her shoes finally did their damage. I watched her step falter out of the corner of my eye as I flung myself into the room, closing the door.
I, Walter Carvel, had snagged the final study room at the library.
Boo yeah, baby!
Yeah, okay. I'm at the library. I'm a nerd despite the cool guy appearance I apparently put on. Truthfully, I wouldn't even mind it if people found out that I liked learning. I mean, science made everything around you make sense. Which would be a whole lot more useful in life than being a "bro" or a "playah". Wazzap?
Ahaha, that cracks me up. Those guys who give that epileptic head jerk they call a manly nod, and go "wazzap, my home boy?" Hysterical.
Alright, that was mean, and I'm sorry Terry, my gangster friend who is actually not as daft as the image he flaunts is.
And, I'm a strange dude who apologizes to his friends telepathically for insulting them… telepathically.
There's no hope for me. To the textbook!
I quickly signed the book out of the reference section, and hurried back to my room. Generally, when you leave your backpack on the table in the room, most people know that the room is off limits.
Yet, some people just don't understand that. Some people, have to fling the stranger's backpack across the hall and into a shelf of books, making said stranger clean up for five minutes, effectively ridding his chance of snagging a nice secluded desk across from the room and condemning him to a communal table in the children's section.
Thanks a whole lot.
Fortunately, I found myself back in the room with my backpack still standing guard. I popped open the textbook, and took out my notes from yesterday's study session. Today, how motors worked. Hurray!
It was about an hour and a half later, while I was touching up my diagram of a Wankel Rotary engine, when a girl suddenly entered my room.
There were no locks on the study rooms, since the library was afraid of what could happen when visitors were given the holy power to lock doors. Which was why, things like this were happening.
"Did you know, the dot over the letter "i" is called a tittle?"
Being the hormonal teenage boy that I am, I only caught the "tittle" part of this phrase, more focused on the first syllable than anything else. And because of the sudden nature of her entrance, coupled with her interesting opening remark, I began to choke.
"Did you know that according to hospitals, the most common things to choke on include key-chains, coins, and batteries?"
This time, I caught the entire sentence. However, key-chains being the first on the list, I pondered it for a fraction more of a second than the others. It just so happened that I had a camel key-chain for my house keys. Which, of course, led to thoughts of camel toes and…
I choked even harder. I think I spluttered the word camel because she continued with, "and a rat can last longer than a camel without water."
Water. I wish I had some water right about now.
"Sorry, I don't have water. But I have champagne! You know, if you drop a raisin into a glass of fresh champagne, it will bounce up and down continuously from the bottom of the glass to the top?"
Why was this girl carrying champagne?
"Oh, and where are my manners? I'm Wendy. It's pretty funny actually, the name Wendy was made up especially for the Peter Pan. Before then, no such name as Wendy!" She said this with a cheeky smile and a lame hand gesture.
I finally stopped choking. Sadly, I began to hiccup instead. I still managed to kindly spit out a quick question.
"What the hell are you doing?!
Okay, not so kind. But I was furious that my study session had been interrupted. The fact that I had suffered from a choking fit and now moved on to a hiccupping session didn't really help matters. I was in no mood for any of the trivia she had to offer.
"Well, I just wanted to inform you that a female ferret will die if it goes into heat and cannot find a mate. I'm trying to tell everyone in the library."
What the hell. I got up from my chair, and pushed her against the wall. "Since you know so much, tell me how to stop my hiccups", I growled. The intimidation factor was only slightly ruined by the two hiccups that had interrupted my command. Waiting for her answer, the face of my watch happened to appear in my line of vision, which made me realize I had only five more minutes left with the textbook before I had to return it. I fumed (those dang five minutes!), which left me totally unprepared for what happened next.
She kissed me.