The isolation of George

Queues are interesting places, they create time. Despite the obvious insult to your already busy schedule, time created by a queue can indeed be useful. It can be used to reflect.

I was in a queue. A typically hot and anxious queue in a convenience store. Before my frustration allowed its surface like a demented beast vying for blood, I used my newly given time for a more purposeful venture. I observed. I observed what was happening around me, observed the other participants in my unfolding soap opera of people watching. It's where I observed George.

George must be in his late sixties, early seventies. A big man in height and of heart, but seemingly shrunken by an untold burden. Big, yet incredibly small at the same time. He was interesting, and intriguing, through his grey presentation. His eyes, his only colour, spoke of stories of past memories that his drawn face failed to convey. Stories his mouth was not allowed to tell. His eyes glinted some form of life that his shell of a body, his cocoon, kept tightly locked.

He was helping, sorry trying to help, his wife load their shopping at the till. Her name I've not imagined enough but will go with Pam or possibly Maureen.

He barely spoke, he never had the chance. 'Not like that George', 'give it here George', 'oh you're useless George', 'must I do everything George'. They say that words cannot hurt you, but words coupled with scolding and patronising looks can wound more than the sharpest of swords.

He said nothing, never returned vitriol, just dutifully continued under fire. Like an old soldier destined to fall as bullets crashed around him. Head down son and get the job done.

The tirade continued, any choice he made was wrong, a decision from him would be considered a failure to comply. As his 'incompetence' became an enemy, He was sent on a side mission.

She'd forgotten peas. Not George, he wasn't deemed capable enough to work a complex list of items needing to be purchased. She had forgotten the peas, yet it was of course somehow George's error, 'see, you've made me forget the peas. Go get some'.

He confirmed the new order, 'peas, right' and set off. He hurried back, his pace sprightlier than his age, eager to please his commander.

'Oh for god sake George not those ones. Why can't you ever get anything right?'

As Pam or Maureen left to select the correct peas, and the queue grew deeper still, The shop assistants face became an unspoken dialogue to the scene. Sympathetic to the soldiers plea, but unable to help. Unable to offer shelter for the incoming shrapnel. Expressions that said, 'Jesus, get off the poor fellas case'.

The returning Maureen/Pam turned her attention to her, 'I don't know why I bother, he's clueless'.

'It's why many people shop alone madam' retorted the assistant. The grenade was missed by Maureen/Pam who was loading further bags into the ever decreasing arms of George at such a rate that would earn Olympic gold.

George was further at fault when payment was required. Unable to reach his wallet due to his arms being imprisoned by shopping, Maureen/Pam became further flustered, further embarrassed, 'you're just holding people up now George'.

'It's ok Madam, we're open until midnight'. Maureen/Pam again missed the bullet as she was busy viciously manhandling poor George for his money, so much so he dropped a bag. The bag of peas splitting as they thudded into the ground. I know I wasn't alone in thinking, 'that'll pee her off'.

Transaction made and they were done. She turned as if on a military parade and marched to the door, no words needed. George delayed his pace, 'thank you', he offered to the assistant. 'GEORGE! Will you hurry up, we're meeting Grace for tea and cake'. As he shuffled after her, he raised enough spirit to utter the words, 'Yes dear.....sorry dear'.

I've met George before, many many times. Even met the female George too. Hundreds of them, thousands if I'd taken the time to count. They are everywhere. They are the situational lovers. Those who made the decision to stay in a relationship based on time together, shared commitments or conventional society.

Choosing to forget their own happiness, their own dreams to comply with a label on a piece of beautiful church paper. Forgetting that they themselves only have one heart, one soul and one go at this life to find true unbreakable happiness.

Sure there would be heartbreak, lasting pain on both sides, yet is that the worst choice to make? Is the decision to stay more painful than the decision to go?

If staying together creates an isolation from self, can it really be happiness?

True togetherness isn't a call and command arrangement. It's about creating a freedom by being together, a freedom to be exactly who you really are.

Love doesn't isolate, it doesn't chain down or change a person. Love enables, love creates unity and love should always be life's greatest pleasure. It is bigger than all of us, and should never be confused with duty.