The Long Queue

Yusuf took a free morning from work. He needed one paper with a stamp on it. The office opened at eight, and he arrived at ten past. He put the papers in a plastic folder. His bus was on time.

The queue at the door was already long. He took a ticket from the machine. His number was 84. The screen showed 31.

Yusuf sat down on one of the grey chairs. "This is going to take two hours," he thought. He put the form on his knees. A child was crying near the window. Two men talked about football.

A woman with a red bag sat down next to him. She looked at his paper for a moment. Then she said something quietly. Her coat was wet from the rain. She put the bag on the floor.

"Excuse me. Is that the blue form or the green one?" Yusuf looked down. His form was blue.

"They changed it in January," she said. "The clerk at counter two will send you away. I'm sorry." Yusuf had the wrong form in his hands.

Yusuf felt cold for a second. He waited fifty minutes for nothing. "Where can I get the green one?" he asked. He looked at the screen. It showed number 73 now.

"There's a box near the toilets," she said. "Nobody sees it, because a plant stands in front of it."

Yusuf found the box behind the plant. He filled in the green form in four minutes. His number was still eleven places away. The pen on the box didn't work. A stranger gave him a better one.

"How did you know that?" he asked her. The woman smiled. "I'm here every month for my mother. I know this room well."

Her name was Marisol. She gave him one more piece of advice. "Ask for the signature and the stamp together. Otherwise you must come back." Yusuf wrote both words on his hand. Marisol laughed at that.

At 10:35 the screen showed 84. Yusuf went to counter two. The clerk was tired but patient with him.

He checked the green form and asked two questions. Then he used the stamp and signed at the bottom. It took four minutes.

Yusuf was relieved and hungry. Marisol was still waiting with number 91. "I'll bring you a coffee," he said, and he did.