Peeping Tom Princess

I did not realize I am a waiting room peeping tom princess until today. When I first arrived, I made a mistake and laughed when an older lady was yelling into the phone about what a loser her grandson was for leaving her here without a ride home. This earned me a stellar glare from screechy wheel-chaired crone. I pretend I am not observing any of them, Glance around swiftly once in a while so They realize I am not a corpse, pretending To be completely uninterested in what the other six are doing. I am not noticing any of you at all, I pretend loudly. A new player, an older gentleman, dressed in long gray shorts, and hairy legs arrives. Can we help you sir? I am looking for my…. DADDY! Twenty-something girl who has had her head down almost between her knees since she arrived Does not rise, but she puts her hands out, and the man in the red And white Hawaiian shirt who just entered, races toward his offspring. There is loud sobbing now, the first interesting thing she has done. Daddy rudely sits behind a pole, so I can only see head-down girl. She is beyond being consoled. He speaks in soothing low tones. Sometimes all you need is your dad Sometimes you just want to make a show; hers is quite the little performance. I start writing down the phone conversation mascara woman is having next to me. She is ever more interesting. Not feeling a bit guilty for being the creepy waiting room peeping tom princess that I apparently am.