The ride has two lines.
The regular line.
And the alternate line—
for those who cannot stand in the regular one.
There are many legitimate reasons
a person might not be able
to wait like everyone else.
A man with a broken leg approaches the ride.
He pauses.
He studies both lines.
The regular line stretches far—
a winding ribbon of patience.
The alternate line is short.
His leg aches.
His crutches press into his palms.
He feels each step.
But he is grateful
to be at the amusement park,
to feel the sun,
to hear the laughter.
He chooses the regular line.
A second man with a sprained ankle approaches.
He, too, surveys the scene.
The regular line is long.
The alternate line is short.
His ankle feels fine—
a self-diagnosed inconvenience.
A discomfort he rehearses in his mind
until it becomes justification.
He feels entitled.
He chooses the alternate line.
There is always someone
doing more with less.
And, unfortunately,
there is always someone
taking more
than they need.
