The Slowest Photocopier

I have a hard time dealing with slow people. They really test my patience. I’m not talking about the elderly or people who have physical or mental limitations that make them slow; those people are fine. They can’t go any faster, and I understand that. I’m talking about the people who can go faster but won’t. These are the people who “live life at their own pace.” There’s nothing wrong with this when you’re not impeding anybody. But when there’s traffic stacking up behind you, either literally or figuratively, that’s when the concept of common courtesy kicks in and you need to get on it, since you’re not an island. These are the people who walk shoulder to shoulder down a busy hallway and when someone behind them brusquely says “excuse me,” they whirl about in wonder, just astounded that they’re not the only people in the airport. These are the people who chug along at 50 in the left lane at rush hour with drivers passing them on the right and wondering “how anyone can be so angry on such a beautiful day.” I remember in college, I went to the library to have some pages of a book photocopied for an assignment. I got the slowest librarian in the world to do it. (I don’t know why I couldn’t just copy it myself. Maybe it’s because I was just an undergrad and didn’t have a library science degree and was unqualified to Xerox.) Anyway, I was very late for somewhere I had to be but this woman (she was not old) was copying at a tortoise-like pace while my professor just chatted with her aimlessly. This librarian would turn the page of the book, smooth it out meticulously, place it on the copier with all the care that one would handle a Fabergé egg, and ceremoniously press the copy button. Meanwhile, the clock is ticking and I really have to go. And she’s just chugging along. I wanted to grab a dictionary from the shelves and show her the meaning of the word “expedite.” I wonder if she’s still there 25 years later, trying real hard to get that book photocopied.