My Turn

He started getting excited. In just a few short minutes, it would be his turn to speak. He would be able to stand before his peers, and tell them about the most important event that he had ever experienced. It made no difference if they believed him or not, it was his life experience and he needed to tell it. If only the person currently speaking would just stop talking.

Feeling really tickled he turned to the young woman beside him, "You know I’m next. It’s my turn, when he finishes."

The young lady just gave him a condescending smile. But he knew, even without her approval, it was definitely his turn next.

For many years, it had always been the custom for people to gather at this old water fountain. If you had something important to tell, something to pass on before you die, this was the place to do it. You would go to the center of the fountain, and with all your peers sitting around the edge, start talking. They would listen, and you could talk for as long as you wanted. But he could also remember back to the good old days, when there was water in the fountain. Even the center of the fountain had water squirting up from it. It would shoot in many directions very high, and while falling back to earth, break into a fine mist that would lightly land on the people passing by. Oh, those were the days. Of course, people didn’t gather around the fountain to listen, and for sure no one went to the center to talk. It was just a nice place to sit and cool your feet in the heat of the day, or walk by and feel the cool mist of water land on your face. He was going to tell them that, and more, if only the person in front of him would quit talking.

Everyone knew what the main rule at the fountain was. You had to let the speaker finish saying what he wanted, before the next person could talk. Some of the other rules were significant, but this was the most important rule, and it had to be followed.

Turning to the young woman again he whispered, "He sure is taking a long time, isn’t he? I’ll sure be glad when it’s my turn."

The young lady just looked at him this time, without a smile, and then turned her back on him.

"If she knew what I was going to say, she would agree with me in an instant. This is taking way to long" he thought.

If only the rules didn’t protect the speaker. Rules. Yes the rules. Maybe if he went over the rules he could find one that would make it his turn. Somehow, I need to get rid of the person in front of me, and make it my turn. After all, what I had to say was definitely more important. What was this guy talking about anyway? He could see that most of the listeners weren’t paying attention. A lot of them were talking with the person they were standing next too. And for sure, he wasn’t listening to what was being said. So why wasn’t it his turn? If he could just find one rule that would get rid of that speaker. That’s all he needed.

"Lets see," he thought. Rule number one was the speaker could talk was long as he wanted. Rule number two was you had to be over 125 years old to speak. Maybe that’s it. That guy certainly didn’t look 125 years.