Waiting for That Godot Guy

I hate waiting.  Hate it with the passion of ten thousand white-hot suns.  I understand that sometimes I do have to wait, that that is part of life.  I get it.  I know that I have to do my time waiting, on occasion. I am not talking about the waiting for Christmas or waiting for my son to dress himself so we can leave the house.    

I especially hate sitting around waiting for someone to make a decision.  

I usually get along with everyone at work.  I am an easygoing sort, and when the group wants to go out to eat,  I can find something to eat, no matter where we go. I'm adaptable, and not a picky eater. But nobody ever seems interested in making a decision.

Me:  "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know."

Me: "What are you hungry for?"

"I don't know."

Me: "How about this place?"

"Ew. Not that place!"

Me:  "This one?"

"They have bad service."

Me: "That one?"

"You want food poisoning?" 

Me: "Well? Just decide on a place. "

"I just don't know."

Arrrghh!  

I feel as though I am waiting for that Godot guy.  It's almost as if some people want someone else to make decisions about the very food they eat.  Then they can blame it on me, if things don't work out.  They've handed responsibility for the whole thing to me. I have enough trouble making decisions for myself.  Also, someone else's lunchtime choice might be to a new place that I've never been.  That might be the best place ever, with the most delicious food we've ever had, but nobody will make a decision!


Food poisoning starts to look like a better option than continuing the conversation.  By that point, I am usually so hungry that I don't care.  I make a decision, and I just go.   Sometimes people come with me.  Occasionally, we all go separate ways and hit the drive thru, then meet back up somewhere for lunch. Because our lunches together are not about what we eat, after all that.