With the exceptions of the GPS signals that irradiate my left-of crotch every day, and the way life slows to one frame per second when I fall off a bike or watch a very, very pretty girl walk by, I don’t believe in magic.

However.  I do believe in a variety of phenomena.  These fall somewhere between philosophy and coincidence.  And an entire category of these are based on not waiting one more minute.

If I want my food to come, I go to the bathroom.  Then my hands are clean and I avoid the “aowhoahh hooray” and pointing out who got the cutlet and who got the western omelet.

This also works for elevators.  I’ll head for the stairs, then hustle back at the sound of a ding.  I feel like I should apologize to the other riders.  But I never do.  This is because they should be thanking me.

I sometimes do not wait to finish chewing my food before responding in a conversation.  This is because a long silence with rapid chewing and gestures that say “I have something to say” is more weird than just saying it.  At least I hope so.  I’ve never noticed what other people do.  I have friends despite this or because of this.

But there are phenomena in waiting, too.  Occasionally I’ll sit in my driveway listening to the end of a story on NPR.  This is not because I want to hear it’s conclusion, but rather because a tiny bit of anticipation improves the smell of my house.  This works about 60% of the time.

(I think magic requires 98%)

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