There has to be something I don't see. There just has to be. There is no visible reason why the women ahead of me at the salad bar have to deliberate over every single piece of lettuce that goes into their one-cup to-go box. It can take two minutes for these people to put just enough lettuce down to cover the bottom. Then the performance repeats at the peppers. And the cucumbers. And the garbanzos.
There are eight people in line, trying to get something to eat during their thirty-minute lunch break. Ten minutes are used up watching someone try to decide between the genetically-identical 11/64-thick or 5/32-think slices of carrot.
One of these days I will be ahead of one of them, and I will spend a considerable period deciding whether to pay with two fives or a ten.