Impatience is a crazy thing, don’t you reckon? I just googled the definition and the supposedly most powerful search engine of the 21st century defines it as, ‘the tendency to be impatient.’ Nice work, Google. Props out to you. To me, impatience comes with evolving expectations. Just five years ago, if you wanted to leave your suburban nest to venture out into the city for drinks with your mates, it was considered a standard to order a maxi cab at least thirty minutes before you head off on your drunken journey. You’ll then continue to talk shit and pre-drink until your yellow eleven-seater rocks up to your front door. That was the consensus of all pre-drinkers, friday night outters and the like. Nowadays, an Uber will take longer than five minutes to arrive and suddenly shit has hit the fan so fast the pergola is already knee-deep in its third coat of new paint. I think in both scenarios though, what stays a constant, is that minute-after-the-last-minute panic when the ride arrives and everyone’s just tipsy as fuck running around getting all their shit that somehow got scattered around the house like a bunch of dragonballs. It ends up becoming just a blur of screams, swears and shouts.


Oooooohhh fuck the ride’s here, where’s my wallet? Where’s my wallet?! Where’s my fucking wallet? Oh shit, I need to pee. Is someone in the toilet?’

‘Did you bring your licence? Don’t tell me you forgot. Come on let’s go let’s go let’s gooooo!!!’

‘Wait I need to pee. Where the fuck is Dom? Also, do we need to withdraw?’

‘Ay! Guys! Ayyyy!!! Wait! Should we finish the bottle?’

‘Ughhhh I’m so fucked…’


Next interview you go to, that part where they ask what kind of strengths you have? Just tell them you have the ability to coordinate ten plastered mates from your home, to the taxi, and to the club. They’ll have your employment contract signed faster than you can say
‘shotgun not front!’ as you and your mates walk toward the maxi cab.





               So back to the theme of impatience, it’s really a crazy thing. It’s this blur of mixed emotions that transforms into hate. Hate towards waiting for things that are taking too long. But everyone has their very own scale of what exactly takes too long. From that last example, one end is thirty minutes for a maxi cab, and on the other is five measly minutes for an Uber before cracking the absolute shits. Remember when Blockbuster was a thing? To me, the name itself breeds nostalgia. I think Blockbuster has a special place in my childhood because it was back when I was a little kid who didn’t know how to be impatient, not yet anyway. Did I ever mention I fucking love movies? This is probably where it started. Back before my whole life was packed in a little device in my pocket. I’d go to the local video store with my dad and brothers to have a cheeky browse. My dad allowed us to choose one movie only (which was completely fair, just in case he’s reading this). The options came with either, one-night-only or seven-day-rent. Obviously the one-night-only option was for the new releases. The system of this, was so simple yet so elegant. The point is, if I just spent twenty minutes circling and completing laps of the entire store, you can bet your left bum cheek I’m watching The Lion King (1994) tonight. 


Because I chose it. Then Netflix had to fuck it all up.


Don’t get me wrong, I love Netflix and am all up for that binge-watching culture. See, there’s different types of impatience. It can be as specific as the mode of transport evolving from taxi to Uber. For this, it’s the movie selection experience. What I hate is that impatience grew, and eventually evolved reaching new heights to near-lazy. This new Netflix feature that, while convenient, begs the question on whether or not it’s necessary – the Skip Intro button. That cheeky little button on the bottom right of the screen that pops up when an intro to any TV series starts, giving you the option of skipping it. I say this here with fiery rage but let’s be honest, I’m as guilty as they come. I don’t know about the rest of you, it may just be that I’m naturally indecisive, but I’ve found myself more often than I’d care to admit – spending more time scrolling and browsing, browsing and scrolling through the impeccable Netflix selection experience than I actually do watching. Obviously you get your great days where you get repeatedly hit, wacked, attacked with great content. I call those, days of discovery. Okay fine you got me, I actually just call them days of fuck yeah new show… finally, goodbye world.





               But tell me, have you ever found yourself in that scrolling and browsing abyss with no clear end in sight and to finally, finally after fifteen gruelling minutes find a show or film worth watching? And then to immediately change your mind shortly after it even began? Yeah that’s happened to me. A lot. I could count the amount of times that’s happened to me on one hand. Okay, maybe two hands. Alright, might need my feet. And my family’s (I have like eighty-two cousins). Next thing you know, what you thought was going to be a Saturday night filled with spicy content, became an endless game of scrolling and browsing to the point you just thought fuck it and went to bed. Too many choices, has become the pinnacle of my first-world-problems.


Impatience is a crazy thing, I reckon.
















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