There’s an order to things and sometimes you just have to stick to it so things WORK. But, I mean, how the heck do you tell the difference between the order of things and change? How does one know whether they’re being a change-maker or a jerk with no consideration for others? Or really, are they the same thing.
These are the thoughts I had while we ate at sushi train.
You see there was a jerk amongst us, an anarchist of sorts. Despite the marked ‘place lid here’ sections placed at intervals around the belt, they just kept placing the lids on the track. One here. A couple there. Just randomly placed, sometimes within arms reach of a designated area. As the belt went round and round it happened over and over.
I’m going to go on and admit right now that on more than one occasion, as I cast steely glances around the restaurant, I picked them up and placed them where they belonged. Then along would come another. Later, another. Someone was fucking with me, for sure. But in the midst of this need for order, I wondered, am I the man?
Not, THE MAN, like they say he’s the maaaaan.
But the man, like ‘Damn the Man’ from Empire Records.
Does conforming to the designated drop off points for the lids make me part of the system? Am I impeeding this person’s expression? Making assumptions about their ability to read and comprehend? Is there a lesson here for me about live and let live, because we all know sometimes I suck at that one. Perhaps I need to sit back and let things happen more, be less reactive? Does it reeeeally matter?
But it DOES matter. Lids placed all over the tracks just doesn’t work. It messes with being able to effectively deliver fresh plates to the train. It messes with the order of things! To me, and that’s important to clarify because maybe to you it doesn’t occur this way, it DOESN’T WORK. The order of things, the way things work, occurs sometimes to ensure that things work. Order and following the rules helps the world go round.
Or maybe, that’s what THEY want me to believe? What say you?
Oh man, sometimes I just wish I could go out to dinner without having a mind-bending existential crisis, seriously. What’s up with that? Lucky I blog, otherwise this could be swirling around in my brain all week!