Trudging through frozen streets of barely plowed snow, I reached the door of my therapeutic massage place—and the sign inside the door says “we’re closed.” But it’s minutes away from my appointment time. I look through the glass; there are people in there. And still I’m confused. My Catholic school training has kicked in, making me doubt myself and leaving me out in the cold for several extra seconds.
And I recall a time stopping in at a bank. I walked over to the desk to fill out a deposit slip. Then, even though there was no one else there or in line, I went to where the line forms, walked down this roped carpeted area, and stood for a brief millisecond before being called over to a teller. It did not occur to me to just go to the front of the line-forms-here area.
I guess it’s safe to say that I follow the signs regardless of the situation—but I’m not talking about the kind found in the book of Revelation.
MUSOFYR 