I Knew You Were Waiting

Serenaded George Michael to Aretha Franklin in their 1987 chart-topper. Aretha who had been waiting for another hit following her excursion with the Eurthymics, where she insisted on solo femininity and opening doors for themselves (thank you I'll get it myself")
An odd pairing indeed given the age difference at the time.
Perhaps George was waiting for the considerably older Ms Franklin to arrive at the studio........

Meanwhile in my world I knew who would be waiting at the Phlebotomy clinic.

As I swept into the car-park at 7.10 am, my heart sank as it was full of cars already.
I observed one of the occupants struggling with his seat belt and stick in his Cotrolla. As the lab is a first come first serve facility, I quickly sprang from the car.
Forgetting my haematology card I had to return to the Peugeot for a quick scrabble amongst the detritus within my car.
With form firmly in my hand I exited once more and made a dash for the door. However this delay had merely furnished the Corolla's occupant to hobble somewhat suspiciously rapidly into reception. Thwarted again!

As I waited to be seen, I assumed that most British of traits, the "casually glancing around followed by a sudden fascination with my finger nails" look. Maintaining a nonchalant stance, I inwardly fretted as the espied the time. Hurry up I silently intoned.
Finally the man shuffled off to sit down and wait for a blood  test, his gait noticeably different from that observed as he hurried to the door in front of me...

I was quickly checked in and asked to take a seat, to which I glanced around to ponder the chair options. Oh dear, just like the Underground. Do I sit next to the old lady with the crutches, or the two elderly gents with red faces. I opted for the crutches, as I presumed they weren't infectious.

There were 5 people ahead of me, of which 4 were of an elderly disposition, quietly sitting gnashing their teeth, sucking their cheeks and patting their gnarly hands in an attempt to emulate the London Philharmonic Orchestra for body parts.

The time ticked by, and I began to fume quietly. Why oh why do the senior citizens of Whangaparaoa all turn up at the same time at the blood collection centre? I mean they have all day to fit this in? Are their schedules so full of important indoor bowls competitions, visits to the large text library, and pressing hair rinsing appointments, that they cant come later in the day?

The lab opens specially early at 7am in order to make it accesible to workers, allowing them to fit in a blood test just before starting work. So it is quite irksome to find the early morning shift already resembling a resthome. All I needed now was a sympathetic caregiver to softly place her hand on my arm and offer me a cup of tea.

I shouldn't moan really, because I will do exactly the same thing in many years hence, and I shall certainly expect a little more R.E.S.P.E.C.T.