The Riptide Ultra-Glide Read Online Free PDF Page B

set down his folder and got her in a headlock. He twisted.
    â€œOw.” She pushed him away. “Stop that.”
    He picked up the folder. “Delayed neck pain . . .”

Chapter Three
    KEY LARGO
    I n the back of a crowd at a customer-service desk:
    â€œLook at this line,” said Coleman. “Why isn’t it moving?”
    â€œBecause the customer at the counter is telling her life story from the delivery room,” said Serge.
    Five minutes later: “ . . . Now, this other person doesn’t have ID or a receipt, but wants cash . . .”
    Another five minutes: “ . . . He’s explaining that he only wore the underwear a single time on a camping trip . . .”
    Five more: “ . . . She’s holding up a finger for the service rep to wait while she takes a cell-phone call . . .”
    â€œSerge,” said Coleman. “I’m impressed.”
    â€œBy this parade of rudeness?”
    â€œNo, by your reaction. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you can be a little impatient.”
    â€œA little? I’m super impatient,” said Serge. “But trying to improve. That’s the whole problem with society: We detect countless faults in others, but never work on ourselves. And behavior in long lines brings out the worst. Take the nicest people you’d ever meet, stick them in an ultralong line that’s moving like molasses, and it’s as if they were bitten by a werewolf. Some sweet old lady who volunteers to read to the blind: ‘Look at this dickhead with eleven items in the express lane.’ Supermarkets bring out the worst.”
    â€œSupermarkets?”
    â€œI’ve spent hours with calibrated instruments charting the phenomenon. When the national fabric finally tears itself apart, they’ll trace the first rips to grocery checkouts, where all registers are jammed, and suddenly two shoppers with overflowing carts spot the one register with a slightly shorter line. And the rival customers are exactly the same distance away from the register in opposite directions. They both want to get there first, but need to maintain the social facade of not rushing to cut the other one off, so they do the supermarket dance. Happens a million times a day.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘dance’?”
    â€œThey both speed up, but in a special, highly trained way that creates the illusion they’re actually slowing down. It’s an amazing thing to observe in nature, like the moonwalk. And the key is to deliberately not look at the other shopper, but track their progress with peripheral vision, and responding appropriately by speeding up or slowing down, depending on their velocity and how many people are around who might recognize you from church.
    â€œAnd this whole pas de deux continues with one woman tracking the other out of the corner of her eye, thinking, ‘She’s deliberately not looking at me and watching out of the corner of her eye, so under the rules I’m allowed to speed up and cut a tighter angle past the promotional pyramid of Honey Grahams.’ And it goes back and forth like this until they arrive at the same time, and suddenly it’s the biggest surprise: ‘Oh, I didn’t see you.’ ‘I didn’t see you either.’ ‘Go first.’ ‘No, you go first.’ ‘No, you.’ ‘No, you.’ ‘Okay . . .’ And the second one is like, ‘She took advantage of me because of all these people that I know from church, goddammit.’ ”
    â€œAnd you’re going to change all that?” asked Coleman.
    â€œIt only takes one person to begin,” said Serge. “As of this moment, I’m rededicating my entire life to patience. It’s the least I can do for the common good. From now on, I’ll always let the other person by first, like this woman behind me with her arms full and a crying