Let Me Show You How to Survive ‘Squid Game’

I couldn’t tell for sure, but the waiting area looked empty as I approached.

It was all I could do not to break into a jog when I got closer and still only saw empty chairs.

The place was open. The sign said so.

I pulled the door.

Nirvana.

The waiting room was empty.

I would be in and out in 10 minutes, tops.

Here came an employee to greet me. I thought maybe she would bring a bowl of grapes or maybe a glass of champagne to reward me for being the first person in the history of the world to be alone in the waiting area.

“Did you check in online?”

“No.”

Then instead of handing me a bowl of grapes, she proceeded to explain how if everyone who checked in online showed up before someone could get to me, my wait time could be up to 30 minutes.

We just finished watching “Squid Game” at my house. In case you’re unfamiliar, the story revolves around several hundred people who play a series of games. The one who continues to advance until the end is given a boatload of money.

The ones who are eliminated die. It was a little dark for my taste.

I punched my phone number in the keypad, and my name popped up on the screen.

Let’s play Squid Game.

There were six people ahead of me, including one named Buck and another named Zenobia.

The screen said the wait time was 31 minutes.

I couldn’t stop looking into the parking lot. Cars would arrive, and the people would get out.

Miraculously, they kept going in different directions.

I was beating the odds.

Then Zenobia magically appeared. How does someone named Zenobia get to go in front of me? Don’t we know B comes way, way before Z? How in the world did you people line up for the water fountain at your elementary school?

With that, the momentum changed. A couple more came, which made the clock stick on a 19-minute wait time.

When would Buck come? Would it be a sneak attack?

I started scanning the parking lot looking for someone who looked like he would be named Buck.

I developed a couple of suspects, but thankfully, none of them panned out.

Two women walked in. I had a pretty good feeling I was in the clear because every one on the waitlist was male.

“Did you check in online?”

“No,” they said. And I jumped up, twirled around and shot off a few rounds of finger guns.

The women were dispatched to sit in the second class citizen area.

That’s about the time Buck walked in.

When they took his name off the list, I moved up to third. But, the wait-time clock was still stuck on 19 minutes.

I couldn’t take it any longer. I decided go home, get up tomorrow, check in online and join the Zenobias of the world.

Then I looked at a mirror, put on my game face, and decided to stick it out.

The two people ahead of me never showed, and 19 excruciating minutes or so later, I heard my name.

There would be no grapes or no prize for being first in line.

But I felt like I won Squid Game.