A short story about how society races around
Life is filled with people rushing from one thing to another. We rush to the doctor and then sit in a waiting room, reading a stale magazine we looked at the last time we were there. We rush to the cinema and then sit watching 25 minutes worth of advertisements before the movie begins. And then there are people who are in a hurry for I reason I don’t quite understand; like the people who cut me off on the road so they can go to a 24 hour grocery/convenience store. I really don’t get that. The store is not going to close, and I’m pretty sure the store isn’t going to run out of food. Regardless, they need to get there urgently.
I’m not sure if other people my age experience this, but as I’m becoming older, I don’t rush around as much. I’m driving slower. I guess I’m maturing. It was not always like this.
Some of my friends invited me to go to a dog show. I had not been to one before, so I thought it would be a neat experience. When we arrived, the first thing we stopped to watch was the timed obstacle course. The course had all kinds of things, ramps, tunnels, balance beams, and more. The dogs competed to see who could finish the course in the shortest amount of time with the least amount of errors.
We looked on as a small, young, overexcited dog scrambled all over the place. I’m not sure how many bowls of coffee this dog had prior to the race, but it was a few too many. He was jumping and climbing everything. Unfortunately, he rushed to do things he didn’t need to do. His trainer tried leading him toward a ramp he was supposed to climb, but there was a hoop nearby, so he jumped through it. She then tried leading him toward a tunnel, but he saw a nearby hurdle and leapt over it. There is no way I could have a dog like that. If I tried walking him, the dog would think, “Comeoncomeoncomeon! Whycan’twegofaster? Ican’tbelievehowslowthismanis! Wecouldhavebeen aroundtheblocktwotimesbynow! Comeoncomeoncomeon!” And if the dog ever ran away, out of my house, there is no way I could catch him. By the time I went to get my shoes, little Rover would be in a different city.
The next dog that did the obstacle course had a more casual pace. He was slower, but more focused. He probably had a better overall score than Mister Hyperactive Dog. When I was younger, I was much like the little pup. I’d rush around, expending more energy than what was necessary. I thought moving was much better than sitting still. I’d rush to do things, and in hindsight, I could have done better had I thought things through.