Jimmy looked down once again at his number. 423.
The now familiar buzzing sound went off again, followed by the unenthusiastic voice over the intercom saying, "Number 318. Will number 318 please move to the counter." The red LED light that hung from the ceiling flashed the number 318 on and off for seven seconds before settling in to its standard dull glow.
Jimmy looked down once again at his number. 423. He was going to be here for a while.
Jimmy sighed and looked around the room. It was pretty full, just as it had been when he arrived an hour and forty minutes ago. Oh, there were a few empty chairs here and there, but never more than two or three in a row, except for the four-chair buffer zone that surrounded the large smelly man wearing a Captain America t-shirt about two sizes too small. In his mind, Jimmy called him "Captain Stinky."
Jimmy had two open seats to his left. They had previously been occupied by Lady 309 and her two year-old son. She had been one of the most normal-looking, semi-attractive people in the room, which is why Jimmy had chosen to sit where he did. He hadn't said anything to her, other than, "This seat taken?" but he had enjoyed sitting next to her. (As much as you can "enjoy" anything in a place like this.) He had liked how she played toy cars with her son, and the way her cheekbone rose slightly when she smiled at him.
To his right was the old lady knitting. Jimmy didn't know what her number was. He tried to glance at it, but the lady had it hidden under the thing she was knitting. At first, Jimmy thought it was a scarf, but they had both been here long enough that it was looking more like a blanket. She hadn't said a word, she just sat there knitting. Was it knitting or crocheting? One of those. Jimmy didn't know the difference.
As Jimmy watched the lady working the yarn there was a tap on his shoulder. "Is it okay if I sit here?" Jimmy turned and was disappointed to see a small, well-dressed man with an inquisitive look on his face as he awaited Jimmy's reply. Jimmy nodded his head and grunted in affirmation. He didn't want to. He had hoped that someone cute, like Lady 309, would sit next to him. This guy was not nearly as cute as Lady 309. But, at least he wasn't Captain Stinky.
The man sat down and shuffled his papers in his lap, the white tag with "503" in big, black numbers on top. "Well," the man said, "I'm certainly glad they are doing this, even though I don't really want to spend a lot of time here."
Oh great, a yapper, thought Jimmy. Even though the large room was full of people, there wasn't a whole lot of talking going on. Most people kept to themselves, quietly planting their faces in their phones. It had been eerily quiet for that many people. Until Yappy 503 started yapping.
"I see you are number 423," said Yappy 503. "You're probably up pretty soon." As if on cue, the buzzing sounded and the intercom droned, "Number 319. Will number 319 please move to the counter." Jimmy pointed at the blinking red number, shook his head, and gave Yappy 503 a discouraging look.
"Oh," Yappy 503 said, disappointingly. "Still," he said, trying to show a little enthusiasm, "I'm willing to wait a bit, because I think this is for a good cause."
"Good cause? Are you out of your mind?!" It was the first sound Jimmy had heard from Granny Knitty, and she was very fiery as she spoke. "This whole thing is ridiculous, and the biggest waste of time I've ever seen! Even a bigger waste of time than that Titanic movie! I mean, everyone knew the dang thing was going to sink!"
"Really?" Yappy 503 was showing a hint of indignation. "A waste of time? Tell that to the people of Wyoming! Do you really want another Wyoming Incident?"
"Good grief!" Granny Knitty, apparently a fan of Charles Shultz, shouted in reply. "What happened in Wyoming wasn't an 'incident,' it was one crazy person who went a little too far."
"A little too far?!" Yappy 503's face was getting red with anger now. "Four people were killed! Six more were injured! That's more than just a 'little too far' in my book!" Jimmy sat, his head turning back and forth between the two like a cartoon character watching a tennis match.
Suddenly, another voice broke into the conversation. "Yes, what happened in Wyoming was tragic," said Big Hair 399, "but I still don't understand how all those people died and got hurt. All he had was a butter knife." The lady in front of Jimmy had turned around and joined in. She was holding number 399. And she had big hair.
"Exactly my point," said Yappy 503. "It may have 'only' been a butter knife, but he still managed to inflict a lot of damage!"
"Only because they were idiots," said Granny Knitty. "How stupid do you have to be to let a guy kill you with a butter knife?"
"Sounds like victim blaming to me," said Yappy 503.
"It probably is," said Granny Knitty. "Their stupidity is the reason why I have to sit here all day and listen to idiots like you."
Yappy 503 clenched his fist and his jaw. Big Hair 399 broke in again. "It does seem stupid that because four people got killed in Wyoming that I have to sit here for four hours just to register all of my butter knives. I've never hurt anyone with a butter knife in my entire life!" (This was a lie. When she was 13 years old she had thrown her butter knife at her little brother when he had eaten the last bowl of Cap'n Crunch, which she had been saving for herself. The knife struck him in the shoulder, handle-side first. It didn't break the flesh, but it did leave a pretty good bruise for a couple of weeks.)
Jimmy looked down at the paperwork in his lap. He was there to register his 12 butter knives and 18 forks with the government. It did all seem rather silly.
"Maybe not," said Yappy 503 to Big Hair 399, "but once you've registered those knives, we can be sure you won't ever hurt anyone with them."
"That's so dunderheaded!" shouted Granny Knitty. "Just because they're registered doesn't mean you still can't hurt someone with them! I mean, if they actually were dangerous. All registering them does is mean they can track down who owned the butter knife after it's been used."
"Well, isn't that good information to have?" asked Yappy 503.
"That wasn't really a problem in Wyoming," said Granny Knitty. "They didn't have any problem finding the guy who killed those people with a butter knife. This whole thing is just stupid. And so are you," she added, pointing in the direction of Yappy 503.
"Oh, shut up, you old hag!" shouted Yappy 503. That's when Granny Knitty took her knitting needle and swung it in the direction of Yappy 503. Yappy was surprised, but he reacted quickly and deflected the blow.
That's how the knitting needle came to rest in Jimmy's thigh, several inches into his flesh, and several inches out.
And it's why, six months later, Jimmy was sitting on a bench in the big hallway, awaiting his turn to testify in front of Congress concerning the Knitting Needle Registration Act.
THE END
Now please choose a title that best fits this story.
O A. Waiting For My Number
O B. Yappy 503 vs. Granny Knitty
O C. The Wyoming Incident Revisited
O D. Butter Knife Rebellion
O E. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
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