That lady - just called to consulting room "D"
Arrived more than ten minutes later than me!
In hospitals, hanging round's what people do...
But from here, looks like somebody's jumping the queue.
If I dared, I would ask but there seems little use:
They'd just make up a reason, some half-baked excuse,
Like "There's lots of rooms running, and some move through faster."
Why is waiting, for me, such a total disaster?
Of the lines in a bank, why do I choose to join
The one where they're counting a suitcase of coin?
As for airports, they're guaranteed sources of stress:
Approaching the check-in, one tries to assess
Which passenger's passport is just out of date?
Whose luggage will be half an ounce overweight?
I opt and I know as I shuffle along
That, despite all that care, my decision was wrong.
So here, in this clinic, there's surely no doubt
Mine's the room no one goes in - or never comes out.
I could do with the loo or, for certain, I'll burst
But can't leave, in case someone goes sneaking in first.
Those magazines all look so dog-eared and dated,
Thumbed by those who, before me, have sat here and waited;
The recipes torn out, e'en now being cooked
By the bored, the frustrated...the great overlooked.
Still, there's one on the pile and it seems fairly new.
I'll just have a quick glance: nothing better to do......
Drat! They're calling my name! Now I'll never discover
If Sue stayed at home, or eloped with her lover!